


Valerianella Broceliande

by CreamMoon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BAMF Merlin, Bottom Arthur, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Very brief bloodletting scene, rapunzel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamMoon/pseuds/CreamMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is a cruel place so Arthur and his elder brother Edwin for the most part avoid it, the two living in a high tower away in the woods. Only Edwin ventures out to barter what weapons he makes and comes back with ever grim stories of the outside that terrify Arthur…and thrill him to no end. He wants nothing more than to have a look outside, but Edwin promised their parents he would save Arthur from having to be horribly maimed as he was, and to violate a death bed promise is to be a traitor.</p><p>But in the week that Edwin has again gone to barter off his weaponry a dark haired stranger tumbles his way through their window, setting off a turn of events that leave Arthur’s world forever changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Tower

Arthur’s world was a very small one, so small that sometimes he felt it was a wonder that he found room to breathe in such a tiny space.

The tower was limited to two sections, the up and the down, where the down wasn't terribly down and the up was less a floor and more what felt like a crawlspace as Arthur got older, all there was room for was his bedding and a few books. His brother Edwin slept downstairs, his bed shoved beneath the the ramshackle staircase with a curtain pinned up for privacy.

Aside from the personal affects of parents long passed (their father's spellbooks, their mother's work table) most of what was inside the tower was constructed by Arthur out of boredom. New bookshelves, chairs, table... even a handsome chest that he'd carved bears and other animals into. They were his best approximations, the rabbits Edwin returned with nightly the only sure reference he had for wildlife. Bears at least were easy to see from the high window, the only portal to the land outside.

He envied Edwin deeply and loathed him by turns, feeling jailed in one moment and then grateful in the next, his brother's selfless errand running the only thing keeping them going. The sorcerer was talented, plying his trade not only in magic but brokering his own wares. His bravery knew no bounds, Edwin telling him tales of how beyond their hidden valley the world was in utter chaos.

Arthur knew they shouldn't excite him like they did, the horrors of what was going on not taken lightly, but at the same time...

He was dying to see it all, the bad and the good.

Shame things couldn't go as one wanted.

“Wrists out, Arthur. I need more for tonight’s work.” His elder brother commanded in an even, affectionate tone that just made him sigh, closing the book he was reading without even marking the page. He didn’t need to. He’d read it a hundred times or more by now, it would be no trouble to find his place again.

Getting up the better built of the two started rolling up his sleeves, coming to a stop beside Edwin’s work table before holding out the closest exposed arm. Arthur almost wanted to complain honestly, the marks from last time only just having healed… But Edwin would just admonish him for being selfish. This was how things worked. How they needed to be.

The first slice was always the worst and he hissed through his teeth, his brother only making a vaguely sympathetic noise in response as he slid the blade across Arthur’s wrist again, blood dripping down from his wounds into the bowl, a brief shimmer of gold mixed with the vivid red.

This was the one thing Arthur could do that Edwin could not, unbelievable as that might've been. Arthur, despite never having been able to bend a single bit of it to his will, had magic, and a potent breed at that. It ran through his veins, wild and evidently perfect for weaving enchantments into weapons.

Biting his tongue through a particularly deep drag of the knife he grabbed the warlock’s wrist, shaking his head. “Enough. It’s enough…”

Forcing the older man’s hand away forcefully he met the other blonde man's gaze with a rueful amusement. “Don’t need me tumbling head over heels again, mm?"

“Of course... I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” When Edwin looked at him in times like this it made him wonder if he enjoyed doing this, his expression never quite matching his words. Pulling his tools over he went about their standard clean up routine with efficient movements, Arthur able to pull away not three minutes later with his arm bandaged neatly and rather sore, Edwin already carefully ladling his blood into vials of varying sizes for later.

For all Edwin's magical ability he had no talent for applying healing spells to others, leaving Arthur's body to it's own devices.

“Perfect. Thank you, Arthur, I think when I go out next I’ll see if I can bring you back a nice present. You've been so patient with me this week.” Giving him a tight smile the younger man just shrugged at the statement.

“Perhaps instead you'd... consider letting me go with? Not into the towns, just so you would have a-” Arthur cringed a bit as that dark look passed over the older man’s features. He shouldn't have pushed it.

“And break my oath?" Edwin shot back flatly, the tone making Arthur's stomach roil briefly. The older man was not terribly good with his temper. It seemed he reigned himself back in rather quickly that time, however, speaking calmly again instead. "In a different world, Arthur, maybe I’d let you. But unfortunately this one has ways of completely ruining you.”

With a cursory little gesture at the disfigured half of his face Edwin turned back to the task at hand, a clear dismissal if he'd ever saw one.

Suddenly Arthur felt the walls pressing in tighter.

***

Edwin was gone by the morning after that, Arthur left with the usual curt note of when to expect him back and to keep safe. No one in the tower and no one out of it. No matter what.

As if anyone could get in... and as if Arthur could get out.

Finding his thoughts straying toward his wanderlust the broad man decided making breakfast was a much smarter thing to do, going and fetching several things out of their little store room before pulling down a frying pan.

“That was bloody close..." A strange voice squawked before something clattered heavily against the floorboards.

Laying on the floor of the tower was a gawky looking stranger with the largest ears Arthur had ever seen. Thankfully the man was facing away from where he was standing, pushing himself up onto his knees and straightening out his mess of black hair, giving Arthur a chance to look his fill.

Biting the inside of his cheek he stepped forward, his bare feet pressing lightly to the boards as he slowly crept up on the man. The dark haired man turned to the window from which he had entered, giving Arthur the vaguest impression of high cheekbones and long lashes. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of curiosity at the foreign person as the man in question stood up, dusting off the knees of his breeches casually. How had he gotten up here? Why was he out here? Was he a bandit? Was he-

Well he’d turned around and Arthur’s arms had done the thinking for him, bonking the tall intruder over the head with the frying pan, laying him out neatly beside Arthur’s favorite chair.

“Well. That was...” That was certainly something. Something he supposed warranted excusing a little talking-to-oneself for the moment. “I’m not sure if that was exciting or anti-climactic.”

Getting no response from his unwelcome house guest Arthur shifted from foot to foot for a moment before deciding to set him up in the nearby chair, tying him to it for the time being.

Well at least he had something interesting to do today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12/1/16: I rewrote this chapter entirely and am going to update the rest of them before I start in on Chapter 5


	2. Introductions

The man finally came to around fifteen minutes later, not that Arthur had been really worried about him. It wasn’t like hitting a person over the head could kill them, right?

No, of course not. Plenty of things had happened to fall on Arthur’s head in the past and he was just fine.

Arthur had straddled the seat of a chair he’d placed backwards, arms propped up on the back of it as he kept vigil over his unwelcome guest. It was honestly a bit funny when he did come to, his head whipping around with a wince following close behind. “So... what exactly were you planning on doing up here, hm? You don’t look like any sort of great pillager or thief. Far too scrawny.”

“What?” The man asked through a grimace, squirming in his seat and finally taking notice of his bonds.

Arthur merely shrugged at him, waving his hand a little bit as he continued. “Though maybe you are those things and you’re just in disguise. Magic is a frightfully useful thing in that way.”

The tied man went stiff, eyes wide at the mention. Was that really it?

“What makes you think I have magic?” He asked shakily, surprising Arthur that he didn’t just outright admit it.

“The rope out is broken off. S'not likely that an average person could scale this tower.” Arthur neglected to mention that his own brother scaled it with the very method he was alluding to, making it so his hands would stick better to the stone so he could scramble up. “Come now, it’s obvious... though I’m a bit surprised you haven’t tried to jump on me yet. Was it the hit to the head? It’s just normal rope I’ve got you in.”

Absently he brought a hand down and patted the sword laid across his legs, raising an eyebrow as he watched those blue eyes follow. “Or are you actually intimidated enough by my sword to stay put?”

Gaze snapping up the man spat out an irritated “no” as he shifted beneath his bonds, though for the moment he didn’t seem to be making any overt motions to free himself. “I thought this place was abandoned, if I’d known I’d find a stupid prat up here I wouldn’t have bothered scrambling through the bloody window.”

Ah, so the man did have some fire in him. Arthur certainly wouldn’t be bored tonight.

“You’ve not exactly endeared yourself to me, trespasser.” He hummed, slowly sliding his hand along to the hilt of his sword, idly wrapping his fingers round it and giving it a light squeeze as he watched the interloper follow his movements.

“Look, all I was doing was finding a place to lie low a while, is that really that big a deal?” The dark haired man groused as his eyes flared gold like his brother’s did so many times a day, the ropes falling away in a heap around him as he reached up to rub at where they had been digging in.

“Now if you’re done scolding me I’ll be going.” Standing up as he said this Arthur suddenly felt the spiteful need to make him stay, the blonde grabbing up his sword and standing as well, leveling it at the warlock.

“I think not.”

Things degraded after that, quite the scuffle happening between the two, the warlock trying to throw him back but the magic in his sword managed to flare and resist it for him. When that didn’t work the dark haired man pulled things from the wall to fling at him, Arthur having to cut several things down to avoid getting hit, one of which was one of his favorite paintings that he’d done a few years ago. Eventually he found himself on the floor entangled with the interloper, a hand pressed to his throat while he held the magical blade tight to his adversary’s.

“You have magic?” The warlock intoned with a suspicious sort of frown, Arthur narrowing his eyes in response. He didn’t owe this man any explanation.

Apparently his mouth didn’t have any qualms about telling him despite that fact.

“I was born with it.” His words had a bite to them, his usually restrained jealousy over his brother’s real magic manifesting suddenly ending up directed at the warlock beneath him. Arthur could never bend a damn thing to his will, the only useful thing about him was his blood.

That seemed to do a very good job in pissing the man off, his fingers digging harder into the tender skin of the Arthur's throat.

“You know nothing.” He hissed, suddenly shoving him off, sending Arthur crashing painfully to the side, his hip aching and throat tender from it as the man scrambled back from his blade. The mad scramble ended up putting Arthur between the warlock and his means of getting out which was good for one of them at least.

“Look just let me go and I’ll pretend I never stumbled in here, all right? I just want to get out of here.” The gangly man spat after a moment of severe staring at one another, Arthur’s whole body feeling hot from how aggravated just a look from his adversary made him.

“No.” The man was definitely not getting off that easy. “It may have escaped your notice but you’re missing something you came in with.”

It had been a whim, really, taking the bag off the intruder’s belt. It hadn’t seemed terribly important what was in it, just an ornate, ivory horn that was barely longer than Arthur’s hand. Sort of tacky looking, honestly. Looked like the metal would crack apart if held too tightly in spots. But insurance was insurance and the half-baked plan of leverage had been simmering in the back of his head, his wild imagination playing at it avidly.

The man looked paralyzed before his hand flew to his belt, brows drawing together in alarm as he found the satchel gone. “What have you done with it!? Tell me!”

“Don’t get testy. It’s safe.” Arthur answered slowly, narrowed gaze sliding over his expression, absently wondering if he could glean it’s importance simply from looking at him. “I have a proposition for you.”

"Oh great." The warlock replied smartly, gritting his teeth as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Just what I want to hear."

Ignoring the statements Arthur continued, trying his best not to fidget under the scrutiny. “I need a guide.”

The man's eyebrows slowly raised at the statement, his frown deepened. “A guide?”

“Yes, a guide.” Arthur repeated, his voice edged with annoyance at having to do even that much, his heartbeat going out of whack at the next bit he never thought he’d even considered saying till this half-baked idea had started snowballing.

“I want to go outside and see some things but I’ve never been. So I’d need someone to show me ‘round.” He tried to make it sound as casual as possible but it just sounded really stupid. What was he even thinking trying to twist this man’s arm into doing this?

The dark haired man watched him a while, perhaps considering just how stupid Arthur’s request was before he suddenly pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “And if I do this, I’ll get my horn back?”

Startled at the unexpected acquiescence he gawped momentarily at his adversary before shutting his mouth, nodding. “You have my word.”

The man went back to watching him before giving a tiny, curt nod himself, slowly getting to his feet and dusting off the knees of his breeches, reaching up to smooth down his mussed hair (not that the mop of dark locks had been very tidy in the first place).

“Well if I’m to be blackmailed...” He muttered, giving Arthur a brief look of disdain as he settled his hands on his hips. “I suppose I should introduce myself if I’m going to be leading you around like some simpleton.”

Squawking some at the insult his prospective guide just smirked in response, Arthur finally standing up as well. “My name is Merlin. Don’t go forgetting it, clotpole, or I’ll really think you’re simple.”

“Clotpole?” Arthur questioned with a mild look of disgust curling his lips, giving Merlin his most annoyed look possible. “You can’t even swear properly.”

"And you _can_ , hermit? I thought you weren't worldly."

Sliding the sword into his belt he muttered a few things to himself about daft people and dafter ideas before lifting his head at the clearing of the sorcerer’s throat. “What?”

“The point of introductions is that they’re reciprocal.” Merlin intoned with a tight smile, his eyes narrowed just a bit. His displeasure was palpable. “Or am I going to get to call you whatever I fancy? Maybe Wart?”

Making another sort of squawking noise at that Arthur suddenly had the urge to grab up the toppled chair that lay nearby and chuck it at him. “My name is Arthur, you idiot. Arthur.”

“Well then Arthur I’m very displeased to meet you.”

“Likewise I’m sure.” The blonde grunted as he righted the chair and then looked around at the various debris from their fight, sighing over the remains of his painting as he scratched at the back of his neck idly. Finally looking back up he gave Merlin an appraising look before glancing toward the stairs.

“I’ll need to gather up a few things. Stay put or that fancy bit of ivory is sure as shattered.” He said in a rather careless tone, grinning as it became the taller man’s turn to gape, the blonde hurrying up the stairs to do as he’d mentioned.

Perhaps this was going to be less of a disaster than he was thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tweaked 12/1/16


	3. Grass and Bark

"You want to go WHERE?"

He hadn't expected the reaction to be so strangely pronounced, Arthur continuing to pack his things in an unhurried manner as the unruly half-wit paced the floor nearby.

"I want to go to the nearest kingdom." He repeated, giving the warlock a bland look as he paced further into view and then back out of it, more than distressed by the notion.

"Why of all- Do you even know- NO! No of course you wouldn't! You're some kind of mad shut-in that lives in a ramshackle tower!!" Merlin kicked out at a nearby chair, stubbing his toe and making a pathetic, anguished sound in response, hopping on one foot as he rubbed the pained area. "You utter cabbagehead!"

"You're the simpleton who kicked it." Arthur huffed, rolling his eyes as he closed the flap, tying the fastenings before shouldering it.

" _You're_ the SIMPLETON! You've no idea what you're asking me to bring you to!"

"Look, Merlin, I know there's a war going on _somewhere_ but it's not like I'm a knight or anything... And you're some kind of waif so it's not like they'll come after you at first glance." He paused, tilting his head as he looked the dark haired man over again. "...unless..."

Merlin had the capacity to actually look ashamed, a surprising and new look on him that way.

"You're a wanted man? A brigand? A bandit?" Arthur pressed, stepping forward with a knife in hand and pointed at Merlin as he advanced. "Who'd you kill?"

"No one!" Merlin squawked, attempting and failing yet again to disarm him with magic, his magic imbued blade vibrating from the effort. "That's what I'm getting at! Taking you to Camelot is bloody mad! The King will string you up!"

Brow furrowing he eased off his pursuit, standing still as Merlin halted his backwards trek, the dark haired man frowning deeply at him before cuffing him on the arm. "Put that away already!"

Rolling his eyes he slid it back home in his belt, motioning for the taller man to continue. Huffing at the gesture Merlin waved with a flourish toward the window.

"Magic is outlawed in Camelot. Practitioners who're found out are either exiled or executed, and more and more exile is being removed from the options list." Pursing his lips he looked down at his boots and then back toward the window, for whatever reason not wanting to address Arthur directly. "I was fleeing Camelot's knights when I tumbled in here... I wasn't going to give the King the chance to decide for me."

"So he just goes around picking up people with magic and tossing them out?" It sounded stupid, not to mention tedious. "Don't tell me that this is the war my brother was talking about..."

"Can't call it a war when there's only one side." Merlin grunted in reply, sinking down into the chair he'd kicked to pull off his boot and rub the offended appendage. "But that's why it'd be mad to take you, especially with what you've got there."

"What I've got...?" He asked as Merlin nodded to the sword in the blonde's belt, Arthur's frown deepening as understanding dawned. "... I see."

"So you might as well just forget going to the kingdom. Settle for something smaller and safer. Keep your freedom." At that statement Arthur barked out a laugh, the warlock frowning at the strange response. "...you really are mad."

Arthur just shook his head, the hollow feeling wriggling in his gut growing by the second. Settle for smaller and safer... Really he'd been aiming big because he knew his time was going to be limited... He supposed seeing something was better than seeing nothing at all.

"All right."

"All right?" Merlin echoed, looking puzzled.

"Yeah. Show me something smaller and safer. A town, maybe?" He asked tentatively, feeling worn out and strange as the warlock studied him.

For whatever reason Merlin actually smiled.

"I can do that."

They passed the rest of the evening chatting in a rather stunted manner before Merlin nodded off in Arthur's armchair, leaving Arthur to his thoughts till the first birds started to wake.

It just might work.

***

Getting down the tower for Merlin wasn't a problem, he clambered down the same way he'd came, the same sort of spell that Arthur's brother used allowing him to descend down the outer wall with little issue. Arthur was another matter entirely.

"You really can't use spells?" Merlin called up to him, the blonde leaning out the window with a frown.

"I have magic but I don't know if I can use it. Either way this isn't the best time to try it out."

"And you haven't got anything long up there to use?"

Arthur just fixed the warlock with a flat look, the man huffing and making an exaggerated "I don't know" sort of gesture.

"Why don't you just conjure me a rope if you're so smart?" He called down, leaning on the sill heavily as he eyed the other man. Glancing up at the skyline he noticed that the stars had nearly all faded out, dawn quickly sending them away.

Pacing at the base Merlin appeared to be muttering to himself, frustrated and irritated himself Arthur wondered how useful exactly this man could be... He couldn't imagine someone pursuing him as a criminal for as incompetent he seemed to be.

"...I'll do you one better." Merlin finally ground out, kneeling down and digging his fingertips into the dirt at the base of Arthur's home. Brow furrowing Arthur leaned further over to watch him, wondering what in the world he could be attempting.

The answer came when vines burst upward, the ivy that had long attempted to thwart Edwin's pruning suddenly growing massive, the vines themselves far larger than any he'd ever seen.

Perhaps he'd spoke too soon.

"Climb down that way. They'll hold." Merlin called up, wiping his hands on his pants as he stepped back to assure him that he was still hanging around. Arthur gave him an indulgent grin before grabbing on and swinging himself out of the window, slowly making his descent as dawn light bathed the land.

When he put his feet to the ground he found himself staring in disbelief at it, quickly looking up at the tower window as though to confirm he was really not letting his imagination to run away with him. As he felt his face split into a stupid, broad grin he knelt down, running his hands over the grass and just... enjoying the new sensation. He almost wanted to rip Edwin's ill fitting, spare boots from his feet just to maximize the contact.

It was wonderful.

Finally remembering he wasn't alone the blonde looked up quickly, finding Merlin studying him quietly, his face feeling hot as he stood up, righting his bag as he cleared his throat.

"...you weren't lying. You really _haven't_ been out of there."

The heat in his face intensified, Arthur frowning as he gave the warlock a somewhat aggravated look. "What use would there be in lying about something like that??"

"... well you _could_ just be mad." Merlin offered with a smirk, smacking Arthur's arm in an oddly amicable manner before motioning for him to follow. "I expected a mad shut in not to have as much color as you do."

"I sat in the window a lot." Arthur said with a shrug, walking with Merlin till they hit the treeline, the blonde curiously fondling the foliage as they walked by a low hanging branch, causing the taller man to dissolve into a fit of chuckles. How annoying.

Passing his hand over the bark of another tree he hummed, marveling at the rough yet delicate structure it made.

"Are you going to commune with nature the whole way?"

"Are you going to be _annoying_ the whole way?"

The silence stretched on till it broke with the pair laughing at the absurdity of the conversation, Arthur briefly reflecting on how that was also a new experience. "So where is it you're taking me, _Mer_ lin?"

"I'm taking you to Nemea, in Gawant. It's larger than most towns and it's festival time..." He paused, giving Arthur a curious look. "You _do_ know what a festival is, right?"

Arthur huffed loudly, curling his hands around the strap of his bag. "I've read about them."

Merlin gave him a grin, though whatever the expression was about it was an utter mystery to Arthur. "Of course you have."

"Don't suppose you do much reading... Being a wanted man and all." Arthur tried, glancing over Merlin casually as they walked, still hardly believing deep down that this wasn't just a dream he was on the brink of waking from.

The warlock gave him a bemused look before shrugging. "I did when I could afford to. Back when I was apprenticed in Camelot."

"Apprenticed? For what?"

"None of your business." Merlin replied blithely, smirking immediately at Arthur's ire. "I'll tell you if you give me back what's mine."

Arthur stuck out his tongue, putting a hand over the bag protectively. "Not a chance. You'd just run away."

"Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't... Who knows, maybe I'm actually a kind soul that you've inconvenienced."

"You're a snarky soul, that's for sure."

"And you're a dollophead."

Arthur wrinkled his nose, elbowing Merlin since he was close enough to do so. "That's not a real insult, stop making things up."

"How would you know? You're not worldly."

"I'm worldly enough!"

Merlin just huffed out a laugh at that, clapping Arthur on the shoulder. "Just shut up and keep moving."


	4. The Road To Nemea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so now that WW has concluded I've come back and completely updated this fic! Chapter 1 & 2 got a bit of a revamp and 3 and the original chapter 4 were combined! I hope you guys enjoy!

Around noon Arthur found himself starting to flag, his sleepless night and the fight with Merlin having really taken a toll on him. Gripping the strap of his bag reflexively he glanced toward the man in question, who had started at some point rattling off rather detailed descriptions of the plant life around them. Around an hour earlier he'd gotten fed up with Arthur's plant touching antics when he'd nearly grabbed onto something potentially poisonous, the dark haired man lecturing him on it's properties in an aggravated tone. How was Arthur supposed to know there was a poisonous version of ivy?

Merlin despite having slept in a chair seemed completely fine. But he had been talking a while. Maybe...

"Aren't you thirsty?" Arthur posed, trying to sound nonchalant.

The warlock stopped mid-sentence, looking to him with a little frown. "What? Why?"

"Well... We've been walking for hours and you've been talking for at least one." He shrugged some, adjusting his bag before looking around. "Perhaps we should look for some water?"

Merlin's frown only deepened, raising an eyebrow at Arthur like he was touched. "You didn't bring a waterskin?"

"It's not like I have spare." The blonde man huffed, actually feeling quite lucky that he was able to find a spare bag. Edwin didn't like clutter and often went through and got rid of things he thought were too worn out for their use. Mostly Arthur's things, but that was another matter...

Evidently his poor thought process had shown on his face by the expression Merlin made back, the blonde man rubbing a hand over it before trying again. "Sorry. Look, my brother is the only one who ever does this. He took all the supplies before he left."

The aggravated look that Merlin had sported ebbed away into something more neutral, hedging dangerously toward pity. The thought of being pitiable made his stomach clench. "So do you want water or not? _I_ could do with some."

"I never thought a blackmailer would be so _needy_." The warlock groaned, slowing to a halt and holding his hands up with some vague intent that Arthur couldn't yet parse. Closing his eyes he flexed his fingers a few times before laying them flat and open toward the sky, his breathing slowing momentarily.

Whatever was done there was no visual effect, Arthur shuffling awkwardly as he waited for Merlin to get done. Finally the man let his arms fall to his sides, opening his eyes and nodding to his right before starting to walk again. "This way."

"Handy, that." The blonde commented, following the warlock into the denser part of the forest.

"How is it you don't know how to do spells?" Merlin suddenly asked as he pushed through the brush ahead, Arthur frowning deeply. He'd hoped they'd been done with that topic for good after the window.

"Edwin told me my magic is too weak to use spells." He failed finish the thought, having a gut feeling that blood enchantments wouldn't be the most endearing topic. Even Arthur knew that that was walking a fine line, and he knew very little.

"Then how can you even tell it's there?" Arthur ground his teeth at the question, wanting to kick out at the other man. Of course he'd continue to push it.

"None of your business."

"Ooo, the Tower Hermit has secrets too." Merlin chuckled, looking back over his shoulder with a smirk. "I would never have guessed."

Maybe Arthur really _would_ kick him.

As they both nearly broke from the treeline suddenly the warlock was back peddling, nearly knocking Arthur over before he was manhandled further back, Merlin's eyes comically wide. "What? What's wrong?"

"Knight. One of Camelot's. Watering horse." Merlin babbled, scrambling further behind the tree as though he didn't have magic at his disposal. Surely a man who sprouted thick vines from the earth with barely the bat of a lash could deal with someone like that easily.

Arthur frowned, looking back at him before creeping up to the edge again, peering around the trunk of his chosen tree to look for wherever this knight was.

Indeed there was a man in chainmail watering a horse, a white maned steed with gray dappling, the man beside it tall and broad with a head of red curls and a beard to match. He stood looking up at the sky, shielding his eyes against the Sun as he scanned for something.

A shrill cry answered the question of what, a hawk diving down to land on the knight's outstretched arm. Arthur bit his lip, squinting as he tried to discern exactly what was being pulled off it's leg.

"Arthur!" Merlin hissed, suddenly hauling him back. He hadn't even noticed he'd been leaning out too far, the warlock giving him an aggravated look as they knelt in the underbrush. "Are you serious!?"

"Sorry, I just was trying to see what was going on. Do you think he's here for you?" He couldn't help the curiosity, it wasn't like he'd seen very many things!

"I know he is." The dark haired man huffed, rubbing his forehead as he eyed Arthur. "That's Sir Leon. He's one of the best trackers in Camelot."

"So you're acquainted." Arthur commented dryly, the sound of hooves signaling that the Knight was well on his way.

Merlin just looked irritated but didn't reply, peering out of their hiding spot before getting to his feet. "We keep to the trees. There will be more than just Sir Leon out on patrol."

***

"... so we're in Camelot." Arthur stated around twenty minutes later, Merlin turning and giving him a look as though he'd just grown another head.

"How do you-" Merlin just cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You didn't even know where you lived!?"

"It's not as though it was important." Edwin rarely ever even told Arthur where he was going let alone talked about the area around them. He was always in poor temper when Arthur asked questions.

"Tower hermits." The warlock just huffed in exasperation, still caught up in his own disbelief. "Bloody _tower hermits_."

"So... What you were saying before about Gawant... That's another kingdom?"

"Yes." Merlin sighed, gesturing vaguely ahead of them. "Nemea is just over the border, we should be getting there toward nightfall."

"Would that Knight follow you into Gawant?" It was something to consider, the sword at his hip seeming to thrum at the notion of being used it an actual fight. Arthur wasn't sure about how he felt one way or another.

Merlin looked troubled at the question, the warlock rubbing at the back of his neck as they trudged along. "Well... Yes. It's actually very likely, which is why it's imperative we avoid him catching wind of us."

"Maybe a disguise is in order." Arthur suggested, eyebrows raising a bit as the warlock gave him a skeptical look for his trouble. "I think you'd look rather fetching in a dress."

The taller man just made a disgusted noise, Arthur stifling his laugh as he continued to press the issue. "Well if he's looking for a gawky man why would he even glance twice at a lanky woman?"

"As tempting as crossdressing sounds, Ar _thur_ , I don't think I'd like to indulge."

"Your loss."

***

When they crossed the border the Sun was nearly finished setting, the lights from the distant settlement made Arthur's fatigue almost fade, the most shocking thing when they reached the gates the amount of noise that there was. Arthur had never heard anything like it.

"You all right?" Merlin questioned as they slowly ambled into town, the relief of reaching it slowing their movements along with Arthur's awed staring.

Giving him a brief look he shrugged his shoulders, gripping the strap of his bag selfconciously. "It's rather noisy."

For whatever reason Merlin smiled. "Of course it is."

The way he said that seemed to be some kind of affirmation rather than something one said to an overly stupid statement. Shockingly it seemed Merlin was being kind.

After what had gone on earlier Arthur had thought perhaps Merlin would've held more animosity toward him. Despite the bit of banter after seeing that Knight the warlock had been largely stony faced and silent the rest of the way to Nemea.

The large town was bedecked in more flowers than Arthur had ever seen, the majority of them blue and yellow shades with some reds sprinkled in sporadically. The townsfolk were carrying on with some kind of drink, several dancing in the street as musicians wound their way around, Arthur smiling broadly at the sound. He'd always wondered what a lute sounded like.

"Come on, I'm fairly certain the inn is this way." Merlin leaned in, speaking nearly into Arthur's ear as he pressed a hand between his shoulders. He tried not to dwell too much on the proximity, the guiding hand at his back the only thing really bothering him. It hadn't occurred to him that Merlin might be just naturally inclined to touch other people.

Edwin had never been a particularly handsy person, the only time he really grabbed onto Arthur in any capacity was when he was working these days.

Shaking his head he shrugged off Merlin's hand, striding up the indicated path without looking at his companion for further direction. It seemed at least that they were not the only ones heading that way, a few men ahead of them carrying heavy traveling packs. They seemed to be merchants of some fashion, or at least what Arthur thought one might look like.

Thankfully when they arrived there the inn hadn't filled up, Merlin arranging for a room for the pair of them before ushering Arthur up the stairs, halting his open gawking again. It hadn't ever occurred to him that not all places were made of stone and mortar.

"You look about to fall over." Merlin commented when they were finally alone, Arthur yawning as though on cue. All the excitement had really swept him up, his night awake catching up with him once more.

"... only a little." He replied, rubbing one eye gently with his thumb before slowly pulling off his bag, unthinkingly dropping it beside the one cot before sitting down.

Perhaps that was an understatement, as when he sagged against the mattress the next thing he knew the Sun was shining in through the little window, Merlin snoring across the room.

At least the other man hadn't snuck off in the night.


	5. The Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swapped up to Merlin's POV for some insight into how he's feeling.

When Merlin woke he felt like he'd been put through a ringer, his leg muscles aching mightily from the two days worth of abuse he'd put them through. Fleeing Camelot had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, his worry over the thought that backlash might reach his Mother for his crimes plaguing him with every step he took away. Despite the wrath of Uther Pendragon being a renowned thing Merlin wasn't sure that his Knights could be so ruthless, least of all Sir Leon.

Staring up at the ceiling Merlin ruminated over that thought. In the few years he'd lived in Camelot Sir Leon's gentleness had been apparent despite his liege's nature, the physician's apprentice more than once having to bandage wounds garnered by the man in honorable skirmishes and in defense of civilians alike.

Sighing softly he rubbed at his eyes. What an utter mess.

After a few moments he noticed the conspicuous lack of snoring that he'd gone to sleep to the night before, the warlock sitting up quickly and finding the other bed empty. Panic clutched at him before his mind fully caught up, noting that the daft blonde he'd been entertaining had left his bag behind on the rumpled blanket.

Arthur... was such an anomaly. He'd thought he'd eventually drop the facade of the unworldly but after having to forcibly keep him from both causing himself an awful poison ivy rash and then having to keep him from alerting Leon to his whereabouts... It seemed it was really no facade at all.

Just remembering how simultaneously terrified and amazed he'd looked when they'd rolled into Nemea made his stomach twist oddly. Having him along was such a complication, and the thought of putting yet another person in danger rankled despite the blackmail that hung over his head.

The Warlock's train of thought was interrupted by the door opening, revealing the man in question his thoughts had been on, Arthur grinning broadly as he held aloft a sizeable loaf of bread and two apples. Perhaps Merlin wasn't awake enough to properly deal with the blonde beaming like that.

"Where did you get _those_?" The night prior had established indefinitely that Arthur had never possessed currency of any kind himself, Merlin having to cover their room at the inn. At least his place in the royal household had been a decently paid one.

"Market." Arthur chirped in response, tossing one apple down next to Merlin's hip before clutching the other between his teeth, tearing the loaf of bread in half before offering one side to the dark haired man. The warlock took it slowly, still staring at the shorter man expectantly. He rolled his eyes and removed the apple from his mouth, chewing the bit that he'd pulled off noisily. "I took some of your money and went to see what I could get. Your stomach was howling while you were sleeping."

Coloring at the statement Merlin huffed, biting off a bit of the bread just so he didn't have to deign that with a response while he was still waking up. Working through the meal in silence the two men eyed each other, Arthur seeming to be wanting to say something by the time Merlin was swallowing his last bite. "Have I got something on my face?"

It was Arthur's turn to go a bit red, the warlock quirking an eyebrow at the expression that accompanied that unconscious response. "I'm just... eager to go out. Will you be ready to go soon?"

For the prior day's experiences he'd expected the blonde to be more inclined to ordering him around, his advantage in this situation more than clear. Instead Arthur was treating him as though they were friends.

By far this was the most bizarre situation he'd ever been in.

Pursing his lips he set the apple core aside, shoving aside the blanket so he could get up and redress, shooting Arthur a look to check if he was still staring and finding that he'd turned away, the man pointedly digging through his bag. Satisfied that he was not being scrutinized Merlin pulled his breeches and tunic back on, securing his belt as he yawned widely. At least his aches were ebbing, his magic likely working at the pain. "Is it still as active as last night?"

"Oh, yes, I think there might be even more people than when we got in." Arthur replied, excitement creeping into his tone even as he turned his head and looked toward Merlin again. "Are you sure this is a smaller place?"

Merlin hesitated slightly, dread surfacing as he wondered if answering truthfully would end with Arthur demanding more of him. "Very."

"Oh, well then..." The blonde man paused, standing and shouldering his bag before smoothing his own clothing out. "It works."

"It works?"

Arthur only nodded, making for the door with a little shrug. "For the first place I've ever been aside from home. It works. I'm happy."

He was happy? With just _being_ there?

Something about the notion of the strange man's wants being that simplistic made Merlin want to actually show him a good time. What a festival was really like. Merlin rubbed at his eyes and grimaced. Gaius was right, he really was too soft hearted for his own good.

***

When they went down into the town's center Merlin had a vague idea what to expect from the night before, but in the day time it had become an additional, sprawling part of the market that had only been covered stalls the night before, everyone who could find a place to lay a blanket out selling wares. Despite Arthur's clear attempts to cull his excited response he was darting this way and that as they moved along, examining piece after piece as though each offering was something new and mysterious. Belatedly Merlin realized that they likely were in part, though Arthur repeatedly kept reminding him that he had "read about this sort of thing" and that he "wasn't a simpleton".

Still, the shorter man was astoundingly naive, the blonde chattering animatedly with whatever merchant would engage with him, waving various things at Merlin like they were the best deal he'd ever heard of.

A part of Merlin wished Arthur had been the shy type. At least he wouldn't have to peel him away and turn down merchant offerings every other second.

As the day wore on the bards started to come out of hiding, assumedly most of them having slept well past noon due to the festivities the night before. Thankfully the sounds of music drew Arthur's attention away from the street vendors, the blonde grabbing Merlin by the arm and tugging him in the direction of one with a broad smile on his face. "Merlin let's go listen!"

"All right, all right, if it'll get you to stop running around." Merlin laughed, shaking his head some as he let himself be dragged along. The bard in question that Arthur was heading for was a scruffy, long haired man, one that in particular Merlin recalls passing them on the way in up to the inn. He is leaned against a building that depicts a mural of the Nemean lion, the great silver beast locked in combat with a Dire Griffin of shocking proportion. Surely the legendary predator that had stalked through Gawant could not have been that large...

The man is picking at his lute idly, a soft smile curving his lips as he raises his gaze from his instrument, inclining his head slightly when he spots the two of them. "Come a long way?"

"You could say that." Arthur replied, Merlin snorting at the strange response. "What sort of stories do you have?"

"A fair few." The bard replied easily, smile widening just slightly as he eyed the two of them, a few other passersby taking mild interest and slowing as they passed. "Would the titular tale tantalize you at all? Or have you been here before?"

Shockingly the blonde man hesitated, all the excited energy he'd been utilizing ebbing from his earlier behavior in the market to something more shy, Merlin staring openly at the change. What was that all about? "No, it's... It's my first time here, actually."

"Lucky you." The bard replied, completely bypassing the strange little moment as he picked at his strings idly, winking at Arthur briefly before his fingers began to work out a much more structured tune, the man's true skill finally starting to show.

The tale of the Nemean Lion was something Merlin had heard once or twice during his childhood along with other, similar tales of monsters and men. Clearly the tale had been twisted on the way across the land, as the tale that the bard began to sing had a distinctly different sort of feeling.

The story the bard weaved began with the birth of the lion itself, not simply a beast far afield but demigod unto itself born of the Moon's love of mortals. How the lion came to these lands was due to it's fierce-some stature, all mortals that it had encountered having driven it away immediately. That was until it happened upon a shepherd's flock.

Strangely as the bard began to sing of the flock's shepherd his smile changed to a thinly veiled melancholy, his lips upturned weakly as he tried to maintain his expression. The Nemean Shepherd had no name left to time, only a gentle nature that spared the lion yet another rejection, the man allowing the lonely beast to stay with his flock so long as he helped to ward off other predators. The lion was more than happy with those terms, its reputation growing little by little into being seen as Nemea's own guardian thanks to the Shepherd's friendship.

The guardianship was eventually put to the test; the bard slowing the tune slightly as he let his eyes close, his head resting back against the decorated wall. The Dire Griffin was set upon the land by a vengeful King and it ruined all that it came across, eventually beating a path to Nemea itself. The Shepherd and the town's warriors went out to meet it, the lion following after.

All were wounded grievously, and it seemed as though their end was near. The Shepherd was the last to fall of the men, and the lion, seeing his friend so damaged took it upon itself to end things, fighting tooth and nail to kill the Dire Griffin.

"How could it not have died from so much damage?" Arthur broke in, his face turning scarlet when he realized he'd interrupted. Merlin raised an eyebrow at the reaction, shocked that it hadn't been intentional.

The bard merely smiled and indulged him, his nimble fingers simply repeating a refrain as he replied. "Ah, that is the rub with magical creatures, it takes something equally magical to end them. Fortunately..."

He continued on, the lion evidently just the match that it needed. Despite it being the answer the Dire Griffin was the lion's own, both dying shortly after they fell away from one another. The Shepherd survived. The Moon grieved.

Her child had acted so bravely that she could not allow its story to end so sadly, gathering the remnants of its being and sending them forth, willing it so that the lion might have a chance to live as a mortal as a reward. The bard's fingers slowed, his smile now as genuine as it had been at the start. "They say that the lion will someday return home looking for its friend, it's one of the reasons why Nemea still holds this festival."

It seemed Arthur had been taken by the story, and Merlin had to admit it was interesting in the least, the blonde man looking vaguely awed by the notion that the Nemean Lion might be walking amongst them. It was almost endearing.

For his trouble Merlin handed him a few coins, thanking him quietly as Arthur fidgeted with his bag strap, looking as though he'd like to say something more. The bard just saluted them both casually, pushing off the wall and beginning to meander down the opposite direction. "Enjoy the festival, boys."

Turning back to Arthur the warlock paused to study his blackmailer, the blonde still twisting the strap of his bag. It seemed as though the outgoing steam he'd worked up had petered out, the only thing left a sort of anxiousness. "... how about we take a break?"

The shorter man looked surprised but he didn't seem offended by the suggestion, just nodding in response and silently following as Merlin made for a less populated side street, the pair exploring the quieter side of the town. More murals decorated the area seemingly at random, the depictions of who Merlin assumed to be the titular Shepherd and some other notable people from years past. It seemed to ease the mood that Arthur had gotten into, his shoulders relaxing and his idle plucking at his bag ceasing after a while.

"This place is very nice." The comment surprised Merlin after the lengthy silence that had been present, finding Arthur looking sort of earnest as he addressed the warlock. "I had no idea what to expect... But I'm really enjoying myself."

"That's good." Merlin replied dumbly, kicking himself mentally for sounding like such a simpleton. "I've only been to a few events like this myself so... I'm glad this one turned out to be fairly exciting."

There was an awkward pause between them, Arthur looking at Merlin oddly before considering their surroundings pointedly, as though looking at the taller man for the moment was intolerable. It made Merlin almost want to laugh if his stomach hadn't twisted in response to the reaction.

"Thank you for this."

Merlin was almost certain he was hearing things, Arthur starting off again as soon as the warlock looked at him again.

This situation was utterly absurd: a blackmailer grateful to the man he had under his thumb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was tough on me, but at least we got some things established!


	6. Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets two wishes fulfilled purely by accident.

Arthur would never have anticipated that interacting with people would take so much energy from him but by the time Merlin and he wound their way back to the inn he was fit to collapse, lounging around in bed till he finally slipped off to sleep whilst the dark haired man huffed and muttered over the map he'd purchased.

He dreamt of the Lion and the Shepherd laying together in verdant fields, sheep grazing around them. The Shepherd was propped up against the Lion's shoulder, his crook across his lap.

The peaceful image carried him on till morning was there again, the blonde roused by the clatter and chatter outside the window. The festival was to wind down that day, the merchants warning him as he'd gone by the day before that their "deals wouldn't last". As much as he would've liked to have bought something he was already drawing heavily upon Merlin and he didn't like the idea of goading the other man into purchasing anything more than the room and as much food as they'd need.

The memories would have to suffice, his few days outside wonderful despite their strangeness. He had to be getting back home... Edwin would surely be stricken with worry if he found the tower empty. Arthur didn't want to think of the shouting that would ensue should he be found out.

"Oh, you're awake." Merlin commented, drawing Arthur quickly out of that line of thought, the warlock standing and in the midst of putting on his jacket. He'd not even registered that he'd been staring, Arthur averting his gaze briefly before rubbing at his eyes and yawning. "Sleep well?"

"Mm... You?"

"Fine, thank you." The taller man replied, eyeing Arthur speculatively. Or at least he assumed that was what that look was. Merlin had done that an awful lot the day before. "You want to go down before they pack all their things up?"

"I suppose..." He replied, trying to sound casual despite the excitement that welled up. Just the thought of being out again was fun in it's own absurd way. "Definitely will be needing supplies for the walk back."

Merlin looked surprised at that statement, Arthur giving him a questioning look as he swung his legs out of bed and sat up properly, that odd, thoughtful look sliding into place again on the warlock. Was he expecting more out of Arthur or something?

"Sure." Merlin finally said after that extended pause, Arthur pulling his clothes back on and righting their placement before scooping up his bag, double checking it's contents to see that everything was where he'd left it. It was entirely undisturbed. He'd really inconvenienced a good soul he supposed idly, thinking back to the bit of banter he and Merlin had had at the start of this. Merlin could've easily retrieved the horn at anytime if he'd had a mind to, even if Arthur did have a sword at his disposal. He'd left the bag unattended plenty over the last day or so.

Taking a deep breath in he gave Merlin a slight smile, the warlock raising an eyebrow at him before heading for the door, the pair of them heading down and out into the streets once more, Arthur giving the inn a long look, committing it's details to memory as best he could.

Picking up breakfast for the two of them was a simple task, the baker and her children walking the streets with baskets of fresh wares, Merlin and Arthur munching on fragrant, sweet bread as they walked. Many of the merchants had already gone, though several lingered on along with a few of the bards. The one they'd approached the night prior was settled back against that mural of the Lion and the Dire Griffin, Arthur pausing to stare at both as he recalled his dream.

There was just something enchanting about the tale that Arthur couldn't quite explain. Something about it felt very real despite it's fantastic nature.

Evidently he'd been staring too long, Merlin having wandered off and gotten into some kind of discussion with a merchant along with the bard having taken notice of him, the bearded man smiling and raising his hand in greeting. Embarrassed by his behavior he looked between his host and the bard, wondering which course of action was more seemly. Merlin was rather occupied...

As awkward as it felt he decided to go and speak with the bard, waving back before heading over.

"Good morning to you."

"Good morning." Arthur replied, trying to put a proper smile in place. Something about his expression must've come out funny because the bearded bard chuckled quietly, inclining his head slightly as Arthur's expression turned into a grimace.

"There's something about you that stinks of a story, you know what I mean?"

The sentiment was utterly bizarre and Arthur surely did not know what he meant by it, his brow furrowing at that. "What?"

The man laughed again, this time more openly. "You. Where you've come from, where you've been. Your story. A bard always knows a good one when he sees one."

"You must be a green or poor bard then." Arthur blurted out, slapping a hand over his mouth when he realized what he'd said. For whatever reason that only served to make the seated man laugh louder. "I mean... I..."

"Most don't think much of their lives as interesting." He replied, smiling kindly at the blonde man. "And some simply haven't gotten to the part where things become truly interesting. Perhaps you're just getting there, friend."

The way the bard addressed him made him flush with warmth. Hearing that word directed at him was pure magic for Arthur; the one thing he'd longed for since he learned to read was for someone to call him that and mean it. He supposed that the bard had only accomplished half of that wish, but it felt good nonetheless. "Your optimism is astounding."

"And your tongue is a bit blunt, but that's fine. I prefer them that way." The bearded man hummed, strumming at his lute and winking. It felt like Arthur's ears were burning. "My, you must not oft be paid compliments."

"Surely not." Arthur grunted, rubbing a hand over his face before taking a bite out of his bread to silence himself proper, fearful he'd reveal even more inexperience if left to his own devices.

"Shame, that. You're rather lovely." It seemed the bard wanted him to choke continuing on like that. The absurd man smiled wider as Arthur shot him an incredulous look, his fingers picking at the fine strings of his instrument. "Where's your friend this morn?"

Arthur gestured vaguely back to where Merlin was still arguing, the man leaning to the side to see before chuckling to himself. "Seems that he's quite busy. No wonder you came to kill time with me."

"Well, it's not as though I know anyone else here." The blonde man replied, finishing off his breakfast as he scanned the crowd beyond, gaze scanning back and forth before doubling back, brow furrowed at the bright red that stood out against the drabber colors the other citizens were wearing. When he clapped his eyes on the figure again he blanched, mouth opening as recognition dawned. It was the knight from the woods.

Panic soon followed, the blonde grabbing at his bag's strap as he looked back for Merlin. Shockingly he had finally ended whatever he'd been doing with that merchant, making his way toward them.

At some point the bard had stood, the man's brow creased with concern as he caught Arthur by the shoulder. "What's the matter?"

"I... There's..." Arthur stammered, unsure of what he should say, if he should explain at all. The man had been kind, certainly, but should he divulge such a thing to a stranger?

"What's the trouble?" The bearded man pursed his lips before squinting in the direction Arthur had been looking earlier. Before Arthur could think to answer he'd broken from the bard's grip and hurried for Merlin, seizing him by the arm and manhandling him forward through the crowd, offering no explanation as he pushed him into an alleyway just out of sight.

Merlin looked at him as though he'd lost his mind before Arthur stammered out a single word, the only coherent one managed being the most important. When he'd gotten it out the color drained from Merlin's face, the warlock scrubbing his hands through his dark locks as worry took over. Swallowing hard Arthur worked his faculties back into order. "What can I do?"

"I..." Merlin looked hopeless dragging his fingertips down his cheeks as his eyes darted back and forth, looking toward the mouth of the alley and then back at Arthur. "I don't know this place well enough to get out some other way..."

Gritting his teeth Arthur looked back over his shoulder before making a decision, holding up his hands at Merlin before speaking. "Stay here... I'll be right back."

Heading back out he looked around, finding the knight still decently far away and the bard where he'd left him, Arthur honestly shocked that he'd not just up and disappeared. Who would want to possibly deal with something that one had no part in already?

When Arthur neared the bard grabbed him by the elbow, reeling him in and speaking quietly to him this time. "How can I help?"

"There's a man after my companion," Arthur started, choosing his words carefully. "I need to get him out of here, but I don't know the way and neither does he."

The bard studied him a moment or two before nodding slightly, turning Arthur and pushing him back up toward where he'd come from, following close behind. "I can help with that."

It wasn't exactly a sigh of relief but it was a near thing, Arthur only glad that this man at least seemed in some capacity trustworthy for the moment. "Thank you."

When he returned Merlin still looked pale, though he'd stopped pulling on himself in his panic and was now simply leaning against the wall of the one building, staring at the sky above. Upon finding the bard standing beside Arthur he looked alarmed again. "Arthur-"

"He's here to help." He pushed out hurriedly, hating the hopeless look Merlin had to him. The man pulled off his bag as Arthur said that, setting his lute aside. "I promise."

"Do you even know his name!?" Merlin asked, slightly shrill despite the placation. The man in question lifted his head as he pulled several different fabrics from the bag, straightening up and grinning widely.

"I'm Gwaine, pleasure I'm sure. Now put these on." The bard said as he held out the fabric, Merlin looking rather like Gwaine had gone and grown another head as he shook out one of the items, finding it to be a skirt with bangles sown onto it.

"You cannot be serious."

"Beggars can't be choosers, my friend." Gwaine hummed, nudging him gently. "Come now, we should be leaving as soon as possible."

Merlin huffed and muttered a moment longer before stepping into the skirt, yanking it up over his hips and tying it off before taking the wrap and shawl, sliding the wrap on over his jacket and tying the shawl over his hair, making himself into the picture of feminine modesty.

Arthur wouldn't have been able to stop his smile if he'd tried (which he definitely didn't), the bit of conversation from the days prior coming up as he looked Merlin over. Merlin just shot him a rather deadly glare for his trouble as Gwaine repacked his things, shouldering the pack and then nudging at the both of them. "Now, we don't want to hurry along or anything, make ourselves look suspicious. We'll meander on toward the other side of town, wind a little perhaps through the streets. The point is to remain calm."

"Arthur is a bit too calm." Merlin grunted, pulling the shawl further over his face and hunching his shoulders as they headed out of the alley and onto the street again, Gwaine starting to pick idly at the lute's strings again, subtly leading them through the crowd.

The blonde just chuckled nervously, rubbing a hand over his mouth as he looked from Merlin and then around at their surroundings, Gwaine nudging him every now and again so he wouldn't do it too much. Arthur felt as though with every step they were being shadowed, as though the knight knew where they were instantly despite Merlin's disguise.

When they made it out of the town Gwaine didn't allow them to stop till they made it into a copse of trees, the bard taking a look out behind them as Merlin shucked out of the outfit, the jingling of the skirt making Arthur laugh despite the warlock throwing a few insults at him.

"It looks as though your friend hasn't made to follow just yet, but we should keep to the trees for a while yet." The bard scratched his fingertips through his beard, humming a few notes to himself as he considered their surroundings. "I can get you to someplace off the beaten path that will be safe for the night."

Arthur bit his lip, looking between the two and then back toward whence they'd come. Another day away from the tower was another day closer to Edwin finding out about what he'd done... But if Merlin was in danger of being captured it wouldn't do to make him run the roads back toward Camelot.

He could risk it.

Merlin was about to say something when Arthur cut in with "okay", the warlock looking both aggravated and baffled by the blonde agreeing. "It's fine. If it keeps us from getting caught."

Gwaine glanced between them before nodding, clapping Arthur on the shoulder as he started moving again. "Come along then, we've got some way to go still."


	7. Shelter

_"What must I do?"_

_"You must kill Uther Pendragon."_

The roaring is near deafening and he wakes with the cacophony still echoing in his ears, Merlin clapping his hands over them as though the remembered sound could be silenced that way. His back was sticky with sweat, the fire low where they'd heaped sticks in the center of the thicket they'd crashed through, the beginnings of brambles at his back hopefully keeping them from being ambushed.

Arthur was curled not far away, his head tucked into his arms as though he was expecting an attack in his sleep, his knees nearly touching the tips of his elbows.

"Morning." Gwaine greeted from across the clearing, Merlin having mistaken him at first glance for having been sprawled asleep as well.

Brow furrowing after a moment he squinted across the clearing, not sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him or not. It looked as though pricks of silver light were speckled across the bridge of the bearded man's nose and down his throat, but before Merlin could quite confirm it the bard leaned forward and stoked the fire, the gentle light disappearing in an instant. "You seemed to be sleeping poorly."

Merlin hummed in response, feeling in no way obligated to answer truthfully. "Have you slept at all?"

"A touch." Gwaine replied, shrugging his shoulders and making the chain and pendants about his neck jangle together. "I took the watch from Arthur. He didn't seem like he'd be an old hand at shifts."

He paused, giving Merlin a brief glance over before smiling a little. "Neither do you, which is why I let you lie."

Merlin colored, grimacing as his ears burned with the embarrassment he felt out of nowhere. "I wasn't that tired."

"As you say."

Their flight from Nemea the evening before hadn't been hectic, per say, but stressful and tedious, Gwaine backtracking and cutting false paths as a precaution so much that they had to settle for a midpoint between whatever safe haven he'd been referring to. Merlin's feet had been so glad to stop he had barely thought to argue. Arthur seemed of a similar mind, though given his attitude since leaving the tower Merlin had had an awful time predicting the man's reactions. He'd never expected him to be so honest or resourceful.

"If we get moving soon we'll make it there before midday." Gwaine stated, cutting in on Merlin's train of thought, the warlock finding he'd been staring at Arthur all the while. Shaking his head to clear away the lingering threads he nodded vaguely to that statement, righting his clothing and stretching before leaning over and pushing his blackmailer's legs. After a moment or two of that Arthur began to surface, making a sort of wincing sound before he opened his eyes, squinting in Merlin's direction before uncurling and pushing up onto one elbow.

"Morning?" He questioned, earning a soft chuckle out of the bard.

"Tragically correct." Gwaine replied. "We're going to be moving on in a few minutes."

Arthur sat up fully and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, yawning quietly as Merlin finally looked away and got up, the dark haired man scratching at his stubble and kicking dirt into the fire to quell it. His legs were still unhappily sore, the warlock sucking in a deep breath as he fought down the ache. Once he looked back both Gwaine and Arthur were up and seemingly ready, the bard pushing through the edge of the thicket that they'd entered by, skirting the brambles narrowly as he started East.

Arthur trudged behind him, allowing Merlin a moment to examine them both absentmindedly as they silently worked their way further into the woodland. He had to admit that Arthur's stamina was rather good for someone who had presumably had very little floor space to work with. It was still difficult to wrap his head around the idea that someone could be living in such a secluded situation. Even true hermits had seen more society than his blackmailer had it seemed.

Gwaine was an exact counterpoint to Arthur, well traveled in all manner of speaking, or at least that was what he'd gathered from the liberal banter he'd peppered over the course of their flight from his pursuer. He spoke of having traveled as far North as Umbria and as far South as Gedref, leaving Merlin and Arthur agog with his vivid imagery. This was the farthest away from home that the warlock had ever been and he was beginning to feel it both physically and emotionally, a deep longing gripping him as he thought of his mother again.

"Where is it that you hail from, Merlin?" Gwaine finally probed, his tone purposefully light.

"Powys." He answers, throat tight despite his attempt to push away the tumultuous feelings. "From a village along the borderlands of Camelot."

"You look it." The bard commented easily, Merlin's eyebrows raising at the baffling comment. What was that supposed to mean? "How did you come to pass through Nemea? Arthur told me you were the one to bring him along this year."

Merlin looked then to Arthur, who gave him a tight little smile before he glanced away, clearly unsure if Merlin were displeased or not. The warlock really couldn't say himself, finding for a moment how bizarre it was that he was being so skittish, his usually friendly and open demeanor utterly demolished by the turmoil his flight had caused. He was without allies now to say the least, it would be better to work on that than shy away. Gwaine had only extended kindness thus far.

And if it turned out that he had misplaced his trust, well, Merlin could always figure out something with magic. He always did.

"During my apprenticeship my Master had business in the area. He brought me with him during this time a few years ago." They had been on their way back from an audience with Gawant's King, brought along in Lord Tristan's entourage. Lord Tristan had been generous with their time and allowed them leisure time in Nemea, Merlin dancing each night and leaving his feet aching days later.

Gwaine seemed appeased by the simple answer thankfully, his attention sliding away. "And you, Arthur?"

"And me what?" The blonde asked, not sounding as oblivious as he clearly wished he was at the moment.

"Where're you from? Powys as well?"

"No... I'm evidently from Camelot."

"Interesting phrasing." The bard commented, glancing back a moment with clear curiosity. Arthur's nerves showed on his face, his shoulders stiff.

"Yes. It is." Arthur returned, shocking Merlin frankly with his firm shutdown of further prying. He would've thought the shorter man would spill his guts to the scruffy brunette, the overly friendly way they'd been behaving since fleeing not going unnoticed. "Tell us of your home, Gwaine. You've only talked of travel."

The bard laughed, pushing through into a clearing before ruffling his hair with both hands, looking strangely frazzled despite the jovial expression he'd kept.

"Traveling _is_ my home." He stated, dropping his arms back down as he kept the pace. "But I can tell you of where I was born, if that's what you're after."

"Interesting phrasing." Arthur commented, giving Gwaine an unsubtle look. It only served to make the bard bark out a more genuine laugh.

"Yes. It is." The bard parroted back, adjusting his pack as Merlin watched them both with keen interest. "I was born in Kent. Raised there too, I suppose. My village was in the middle of nowhere, about eight families living there. Six by the time I left."

"Was it nice?" Merlin found himself asking, curiosity overtaking him fully now. Gwaine's smile faltered slightly, reminding the warlock suddenly of how he'd looked during his performance their first day.

"It was adequate. A good place for leaving behind." Yet another strange turn of phrase. He wouldn't have thought that Gwaine would be any sort of riddle; he seemed too loud, too giving to be anything but open. Merlin supposed it was just another performance he would put on, that personality.

Gaze drifting to Arthur he found the blonde man looking deep in thought, unlike moments earlier where he'd still held his stiff posture, his shoulders relaxed with the faraway expression in place. He wondered if Arthur somehow felt for that or if it was something else entirely. "Certainly you must be aiming to settle at some point?"

Gwaine snorted at Merlin's question, shrugging carelessly as he slowed his pace and looked around, touching the bark of the nearest tree and looking fairly pensive. "If I find reason to, for now... this is good enough."

Merlin was about to say more when Gwaine suddenly diverted left, his pace quickening. "C'mon, lads. Not far now."

***

The ramshackle cottage in the midst of the briar infested woodland seemed about what Merlin had assumed their lodgings would be like given their situation. He just never expected the roof to give way and fall onto Arthur.

Removal of the roof debris was no issue, magic was enough, the warlock bending things to his will without batting an eyelash, the roof reforming and strengthening to near new status. The state of Arthur after being crushed by all that was another thing entirely.

The man hissed with pain as Gwaine and Merlin moved him from the floor to what passed for a cot, Arthur's tunic torn open over his back and down one arm. Merlin pushed the thought of its repair away as he tried to focus on the blonde fully, his fear cluttering his thoughts with unnecessary musings. "This has to come off for now. Can you get it off yourself or shall I?"

Arthur, pale as he already was, seemed to blanch at the notion for some reason, his grimace fading briefly before he flicked his gaze away, his jaw clenching noticeably. "Can't you just... magick things better?"

"Not when I can't find all that's wrong." Merlin bit back evenly, hands feeling over his leg at present to check if anything was out of place. "I'm not going to ask a second time, Arthur."

The muscle in Arthur's jaw jumped briefly before he relaxed his expression forcefully, the blonde wheezing slightly as he pushed himself up further. It ended up being the both of them that had to get it off, Merlin's blackmailer getting caught up on the newfound holes. Once he went to work he was largely quiet, intermittently asking for Arthur's input on his hurts and where they were the worst as he felt for breaks. At the least it seemed the rough laceration on his back was the worst of it, the one on his arm not so severe... but the location brought him reason to pause regardless when he followed the red gash down to the blonde's wrist.

Merlin's mind went blank when he clapped eyes on the innumerable lines there, white and raised with age with new, deep red scabs forming over a diagonal slice across the lot of them. Shockingly new.

"What are these?"

The question came out toneless, mismatched to the fire of rage that had just burst from nothing. He didn't know why he asked, he was fairly certain he knew.

"Oh, mate..." Gwaine murmured, looking up at Arthur. The injured man looked strangely baffled when Merlin managed to pull his gaze up from the damage, his head perhaps still addled with pain.

"What...?" His blackmailer pulled his arm in, looking down at it as though there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Dazedly he touched the scabs, frowning to himself. "Did the blood not clot right? I told Edwin not so deep..."

Gwaine and Merlin looked at each other, the bard's eyes widening meaningfully at the warlock. Clenching his teeth briefly he gently grabbed and pulled Arthur's arm back to him, beginning to work at healing the fresh wound. "Arthur... did you or your brother do this?"

Suddenly Arthur looked more coherent, the man grimacing and averting his gaze immediately. "It doesn't matter."

"Why do it?" Gwaine cut in, leaning over a bit, as though to conspire in some manner.

Arthur didn't say anything for a while till Merlin took him by both wrists studying the damage closer. The cuts were seemingly staggered, the less freshly cut of the two sporting a near gradient of healing scars. He clenched his teeth to keep from swearing.

"My brother... he uses it for his spells."

The blonde man's voice was small, Merlin releasing his wrists instantly and pushed his face into a neutral expression, rounding to sit on the cot behind Arthur to deal with his back. He wanted to scream. His blood was boiling.

***

Once Arthur was healed as best Merlin was able to manage the man fell asleep rather quickly, the long trek from the night before and the damage done that day sending him off easily. Merlin could only be thankful for the small reprieve.

After all that the warlock had stalked outside, pulled his kerchief from about his neck, wadded it up over his mouth and nose, and had screamed.

It only helped a little.

None of Merlin's toes were happy with him in the aftermath, the warlock kicking at tree trunks in his barely controled tantrum.

Blood magic. Arthur's brother had been using him. For blood magic. His own brother used as an ingredient.

And Arthur seemed to have no idea what the gravity of that was!

"... are you done yet?" Gwaine's question made him jerk and turn, grimacing at the throbbing of one of his big toes.

"Can you _believe_ that!?"

Gwaine looked at him bemusedly, head cocked slightly. "Well he didn't sound like he was lying."

"That's not what I mean! That- that!! His own brother!!!"

The bard shifted his weight to his other foot, settling his hands on his hips as he watched Merlin pace. "Didn't seem like Arthur was forced to participate."

Merlin punched a tree. His knuckles didn't approve.

Taking a sharp, deep breath in he raked both hands through his black hair till it was an utter wreck. "You. You're trustworthy. I know you are. So I'm going to tell you just _where_ I found him."

The brunette looked intrigued, drawing nearer so they were not so close the cottage as Merlin confided in him. "Interesting choice of words."

"Yes. It is." Merlin replied sarcastically, echoing the conversation from before.

"I was running from one of the Knights after me when I came upon a tower in the woods. Just a tower, nothing else, with nothing to imply it had ever been part of a castle. All on its own, with a window open at the top. I climbed it thinking it ideal for evading in the least, the King's men all non-magical." He huffed a bit, pulling at his hair again briefly, as though the stress of that had come back with his words.

"I get in. I get hit over the head. I wake up tied to a chair with _him_ staring me down." Merlin gestured toward the cottage, looking positively livid. "We fought, somehow he blackmails me into guiding him, because as it turns out he's literally never been anywhere else his whole! Entire! LIFE!"

Gwaine looks appropriately baffled by such a thought. "...no where else?"

"No!" Merlin hears his voice go shrill with that and cringes slightly, rubbing his hands over his face as his stress spikes again. "No where. Never touched grass, or felt bark, or seen a town! You should've seen his face when we walked through Nemea's gates!!"

"If he barely knows about anything outside that tower I sorely doubt that he knows what blood magic entails!" Merlin felt like he was fit to set the grass around him on fire for how angry he was at the notion of such advantage being taken. And by one's kin no less! Suddenly a thought occurred to him, the tension in his body ceasing briefly. "I can't let him go back."

"You wouldn't think he'd want to, would he?" The bard frowned, brow furrowed deeply. "Not if he knew."

"I don't know. It's all he's known. He might..." Merlin grit his teeth. How did one deal with something like this? These circumstances were too obscure, too fantastical.

***

Gwaine took it upon himself to suss out their meal's construction, trudging off into the forest and leaving Merlin to wait around for Arthur to wake. The warlock tried to run through the scenarios in his head but so far his blackmailer had been too unpredictable for him to structure anything properly, Merlin barely able to even imagine one reaction that this might garner aside from perhaps disbelief.

"Where's my bag?"

Arthur's voice startled him completely, the warlock practically jumping out of his skin. Clearing his throat awkwardly he looked around, finding that Gwaine had placed it safely aside after they'd gotten him out from beneath the debris. "I'll get it."

Scrambling up he snagged it and then turned, finding the blonde man looking upon him with something like apprehension pinching his brow, Arthur's eyes searching him briefly before putting out a hand, beckoning for him to bring it to the bed. Merlin felt like a simpleton for hesitating so long, it wasn't as though Arthur would be feeling up to moving too much just yet. Handing it off his blackmailer pursed his lips, pawing through the contents for a few seconds before breathing a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging.

His gaze flicked up briefly to scrutinize Merlin again before he bit his lip, reaching into the bag and pulling out the Cailleach's Horn. Merlin's breath caught painfully in his throat. After a moment Arthur held it out to him.

"Here," He started, looking slightly shamefaced. "I should've returned it much sooner. As soon as things became more dire. I would not want to part company, accidentally or otherwise, without returning to you what I've held you with."

Merlin took it gingerly, staring down at the precious item, completely disbelieving that it was in his possession again. Arthur had just... given it back to him. He'd brought it _with_ him, likely with the intent of it's immediate return. The warlock was gobsmacked.

"I'm glad it didn't break in the fall. It's so delicate..." Arthur murmured, brow furrowed as he took in Merlin's reaction. "I thought it would surely be ruined."

Sucking in a sharp, fortifying breath Merlin raised his gaze, staring straight into Arthur's eyes. Unthinkingly he the shade of blue they were, but plowed on, tossing the thought aside before he lost his nerve.

"What do you know of blood magic?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get this away from me
> 
> god it took so LONG to write this augh


	8. The Dragon's Mouth

The conversation goes as poorly as Merlin expected, Arthur immediately defensive but slowly slipping down the slope of realization whilst the warlock explained just what blood magic meant in the outside world.

Generally speaking it always went hand in hand with malevolent intentions, often enough enslavement spells were built around blood infused items. Such facts were known across even the non-magical communities due to their potency, many ancient Warlords and Petty Kings utilizing such means to drag their enemies through the dirt proper. Blood laced weaponry was one of the most dangerous of all... and when Arthur had accidentally revealed that his brother had been using his blood for that?

Merlin just barely kept from shouting what he'd like to do to Edwin. Even if he had no ill will toward Arthur (which Merlin had the barest of defensible thoughts toward Edwin being naive enough to not know the risks) the fact remained that the extraction alone was dangerous, let alone the incantations that were required to successfully imbue anything with the influence.

"He wouldn't hurt me." Arthur grunted after a long stint of quiet, which Merlin instantly scoffed at. That lone thought that he tried to keep hold of in defense of this man he'd never seen had been crumbling beneath the weight of the physical evidence alone. Edwin could only construct such things with proper training. He worked with intent. He used Arthur purposefully and seemingly often as he pleased.

"How long has this been going on?"

Unsurprisingly the blonde man wrinkled his nose and refused to look at him, very much par for the course at this point in the game. The warlock's patience was thin, practically chomping at the bit for a way to make Arthur understand how bad this could be. "How _long_ Arthur?"

"I don't remember." The other man bit back, eyes narrowed. "What does it matter? Ages and ages or not long at all either way you think he's doing wrong. That he's hurting people."

"If you've been in that tower all this time with only him how is it that he learned such things? Did your parents teach him? Surely he would have told you something about himself."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Merlin cringed inwardly when he realized his mistake, Arthur having pressed the heel of one hand against his eyes, both now closed. He'd gone too far.

"Arthur I'm-"

The blonde man swiped his hand over his face before unceremoniously laying back down and turning away from the warlock, leaving Merlin feeling low. Pinching the bridge of his nose he finally stood up and left, just passing Gwaine on his way back in.

"Get anywhere?"

"I'll be back." He grunted, waving his hand as though it could dismiss the inquiry.

Gwaine snorted softly but shrugged amicably at the evasion and went inside with his catch, shutting the door quietly behind him.

***

Merlin really hadn't expected anything to happen to him aside from perhaps a bit more of private stomping and cursing.

Sir Leon truly lived up to his reputation. Tracking skills unparalleled indeed.

"Return the item and I'll let you go." He stated calmly, as though he hadn't just twisted Merlin's arm behind his back and pinned him against a tree.

Sucking in an awkward breath Merlin reigned in his magic, refusing to lash out just yet. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just _can't_." He bit out, wheezing slightly as Leon leaned into him, pressing him harder against the bark. The ginger man was frowning deeply from what he could see out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't get anything about this. You had a good place in the household, you were established and well on your way to becoming the next Court Physician... and you gave it all up and absconded with _one_ heirloom from the Pendragon Household? You must be _mad_." The admission made Merlin laugh, Leon's grip loosening just slightly in surprise but tightening immediately when he made to speak.

"It was mad. But not for stupid reasons." The warlock took a deep breath in. "The King won't care either way. He's just looking for an excuse to make war!"

"War?" The knight echoed, sounding perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

"Stop trying to break my arm and maybe I'll tell you."

Sir Leon scoffed. "Not likely."

"Oh, more likely than you'd think." Gwaine commented idly from somewhere behind the two of them, Leon's grip suddenly going almost completely slack. "Easy does it there, big man... no sudden movements. Let go of his arm and I'll let you step back... oh about a pace, mm? That sound all right?"

"Fine." Sir Leon responded, sounding increasingly aggravated. "Just fine."

"Good."

A second later Leon's grip fell away entirely and Merlin scrambled from between him and the tree, rubbing at his shoulder as he took a look at their current arrangement. Gwaine had managed to get the jump on him, holding the Knight hostage with the flat of his blade across the red haired man's throat.

"Figured I'd come tell you that food was ready... Didn't think we'd have a guest. Thought I covered our tracks better than that." The scruffy bard hummed, giving Merlin a curious look.

"Yes, well... Sir Leon is quite the renowned tracker..."

Leon didn't look outwardly flattered but Merlin could see the color that cropped up on his cheeks plainly despite the low light. Clearly he took it as a compliment. Taking a deep breath in he regarded the knight more seriously. "... I'll tell you what I know if you promise to be civil. If not... well I'll just transport you somewhere far away and who knows if you'll ever make it back home. Either way you can't have what you came for."

Before Leon could ask exactly what he meant by that Merlin flexed his magic just slightly, allowing his eyes to glow as both an admission and warning. Thankfully Sir Leon was an intelligent man.

"Fine." He pressed out, clearing his throat awkwardly before continuing. "I promise."

Merlin nodded slightly to that and headed back toward the cabin, hearing the jangle of chainmail and Gwaine's muttering following close behind. Entering back into the cabin he forced himself to resist looking Arthur's way, stepping aside and holding the door as the other two marched through, securing the door behind them before clearing his throat. "You can put aside the sword. He's given his word."

"That all that binding?" Gwaine questioned but did so regardless, eyeing Leon skeptically as the Knight righted his cape clasp and gave the bard a cursory eyeballing in return. Merlin shrugged, he really didn't want to get into it, especially not when he had so much ground to cover.

"Do you know what the horn is, Leon?"

"Of course." He replied, sounding to Merlin like he completely in the dark. Leon it seemed wasn't terribly good at faking confidence. "It's a valuable Pendragon heirloom that was from the time of Bruta."

The warlock snorted lightly, rolling his eyes. Of course Uther would dispatch his men with so little care. "Hardly."

"Are you implying the King lies?" Leon bit back, looking affronted.

"A lie of omission is still a lie." Merlin returned, rubbing at his temple. Oh loyal, kind men and their principles. "The horn is of magic, it once lay in Bedwyn with its other half before the time of Altheas Pendragon."

Nimueh had told him as much and for once he believed the woman, the desperation in her eyes for a solution cutting through his doubt.

"And what," The knight began, tone sharp. "Does that matter? That means it is a spoil of war, one that should have remained in the vaults."

Merlin rubbed at his eyes, hissing quietly as he tried to keep his composure. Leon's demeanor was not making this any easier.

"The King wants to invade Powys, he believes that King Lotriad is withholding information he wants." Gritting his teeth he gestured in a sweeping motion. "Another war with an inevitable dead end. But I can change that."

Leon looked bemused, his brow furrowed. "With the horn?"

"It calls out to the dead." Or at least that's what Nimueh had described. "If I can speak to my ancestors I can get the King what he needs and there will be no need for bloodshed."

Or putting his mother at risk.

"It calls out... to the dead." Leon repeated, looking for all the world like Merlin had grown a second pair of ears larger than the first.

"It's all I can do. If there was some other way I would have done it but I'm the last one." He hesitated, unsure he wanted to give up that much of himself to a room of acquaintances.

Thankfully it seemed to pass over Leon's head, the knight leaning in as he scrutinized Merlin. "Say I believe you, but every man has motives. What's driving you? Surely if you've had some magical solution like this you could've gone to the King, he does not look unkindly upon magical folk."

Merlin bit his tongue hard, wanting to laugh at the deeply seeded blindness that Uther had instilled in his men. Having a short list of sympathetic sorcerers aiding him obviously absolved him of all the exiles and beheadings he'd handed down over the years.

"There is the reason I'm the last one." He sighed, wanting to say nothing more than that. "Dragonlords were not an approved hold over, I'm afraid."

Leon goes pale, averting his eyes briefly as some kind of shame overtakes his face. Gwaine makes an interesting noise at the side, and Arthur it seems is sleeping through this whole mess.

"If I can learn how to master my powers I can speak with the dragons that sleep below. There surely must be an answer among them." He purses his lips, grimacing a moment later. "If nothing else I could at least hope to get the help of The Queen to dissuade her husband from going to war."

Leon gaped at him, expression shifting to scandalized as he snapped his mouth shut. "You presume to command The Queen like one of those beasts!?"

Merlin actually flinched in the face of Leon's fury, Gwaine grabbing the Knight's shoulder in clear warning as the warlock straightened up with a frown, snapping back at that. "Of course not!"

"She is cursed in more than form!" He continued before Leon could misunderstand him any further. "Her curse leaves her only with Draconic! If only the King could speak with her truly I'm sure he would reconsider going to war for such a fool's errand! There is always another way!"

If the whispers of Ygraine's effect upon Uther in the capital were to be believed surely she could talk sense into him. Surely killing of any kind was not the answer.

"This is a fool's errand." The Knight shot back, expression turning more toward concern than anything. "An admirable one, perhaps, but for a fool all the same."

"I never claimed to be terribly bright." Merlin replied, smiling back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter (and much of my work) has been on hold a little while because of a good friend passing away unexpectedly, then the last part of the chapter gave me some issue because Gwaine inserted himself into the situation, so I had to adjust accordingly. Crossing my fingers the next chapter will be out soon. Enjoy!


	9. Little Lion

As badly as he had wanted to Arthur was glad he hadn't managed to fall asleep. When the other two had come back with the stranger he'd been surprised but not moved enough to react, instead laying there and taking in all that was said. It made his mind race and his heartbeat quicken, Merlin's mysterious motives and urgency now making more sense.

A way to speak to the dead...

After the inquisition he'd gone through that afternoon and the long session of silently searching his memory Arthur now had an answer to all his problems: He'd simply ask his parents how Edwin had come to this. Surely they would know!

Meeting them finally was just a bonus.

Surely Merlin wouldn't be able to deny him a chance to use the horn as well seeing as he was using it for an almost identical purpose. After all, it was his fault that Arthur had any reason to question his brother's motives.

Wracking his brain earlier had yielded disturbingly little to justify or at least contextualize his brother's drive and use for the things he did, aside from the meager living they made off of it, Edwin generally returning with just enough for the two of them and not a single thing more. Sometimes he even came back with less than he'd hoped for. At least in those times Edwin would go and hunt... but rarely did he come back with much of anything. Animals tended to give their home a wide berth. Or at least that's what Edwin had said...

It suddenly occurred to him that most of what Edwin had said so far had been wrong. Though Merlin had mentioned the King of Camelot to be a war maker, the kingdom of Gawant seemed to be peaceful, _thriving_ even. People were happy there and nothing seemed to have been ruined in recent years. They hadn't even encountered a single bandit on their way through the forests! As close as he could stretch it the only hostile thing had been the strange man- Sir Leon -and he was a knight!

Could the world really change that quickly? Was Camelot the place that Edwin spoke so often of being so bleak? He never bothered to say, and since it wasn't until very recently that Arthur even knew _what_ kingdom in which he lived...

He had a sinking feeling that there was something very, very wrong with Edwin.

***

Arthur wished vehemently that his mind had never been set on this path, his dreams becoming strange and awful enough that he woke with a start, sharp teeth and red eyes the only lasting image that flashed before his eyes before he opened them, the details quick to flee as he stared up at the repaired roof.

Gwaine was snoring loudly on the other side of the room. Sitting up he found Merlin conspicuously absent and the fire in the meager hearth burning down a few new logs, the one from the night prior charred and broken beneath them.

His thoughts from the night before began to slip back in, tumbling further and further still with fresh speculation. The more he thought about it the more his guts twisted into knots.

All he could remember _was_ Edwin. Though the man claimed Arthur had been quite young when they had come to take refuge in the tower he still felt as though he should have even the briefest impression... Being held by someone perhaps, or maybe the sound of a voice? But all there was was Edwin's scarred face, Edwin scolding him, Edwin, Edwin, EDWIN. Nothing but Edwin!

It had never bothered him like this before. Before this it'd been a comfort having his brother at his side; all the lonesome days he spent on his own making him crave Edwin's presence, Arthur even appreciating his abysmal mood swings that oft happened upon returning. The Full Moon always heralded his homecomings, Edwin greeting him warmly every time. The days after, however, were not so warm.

How Arthur wished he could stop thinking about this.

Scrubbing his hands over his face he frowned, glancing toward the snoring lump that was Gwaine and then to the door. Surely Merlin wouldn't have slipped off in the night... would he?

Gritting his teeth he slid off the edge of the cot and to his feet, heading out of the meager structure. He wasn't going to wait and see. He'd had enough waiting around for a lifetime.

It didn't take much time to find him, though when Arthur did find him he looked conspicuously like he'd been thinking about doing just what Arthur had feared.

"Do you really think running around on your own is the best way to go 'round?" He asked, brow furrowed with skepticism as Merlin jumped slightly and turned to look at him, looking like a startled animal with his eyes so wide. "Your track record so far seems fairly abysmal, seeing as you were caught and blackmailed and then caught again."

Merlin laughed awkwardly, rolling his eyes. "If you can call that getting caught."

"We could have round two if you like." Arthur offered, raising an eyebrow as he settled his hands on his hips. "Either way, you're not dumping me on Gwaine."

"I wasn't-" The blonde scoffed loudly, narrowing his eyes as Merlin had the decency to look slightly embarrassed over his weak denial.

"Do shut up; I've got to talk to you about something." When he wasn't interrupted he felt a bit shocked, hurriedly continuing in case Merlin changed his mind about keeping quiet. "I heard everything last night... and I've a favor to ask of you."

The warlock looked shocked and apprehensive by turns, Merlin shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as he inclined his head, looking Arthur over expectantly. "You'd really want to put yourself in my debt?"

Arthur scoffed again, rolling his eyes at that question. "Oh as if that's such an awful thing. You wouldn't take advantage of anyone, let alone me. Unfortunately you're too soft for that."

Merlin squawked at that, looking about to argue. " _Anyway_."

"Please," He started, swallowing audibly as he worked out his request mentally. "Allow me to use the horn after you when we go to that place. I... I want to speak to my parents."

Despite his best efforts his face flamed with shame as Merlin's expression became instantly sympathetic, the taller man taking a step toward him. "Arthur..."

"I'm not saying you weren't a total horse's arse for how you treated me... But you're right. I don't know why or what Edwin is doing." Licking his lips he looked away, trying to get the words together to express himself as concisely as he could. "He's my responsibility, and if I can find out what any of what this means or if he's doing something... awful... I should. If nothing else I should do that much... for everyone's sake."

Goodness knows what damage Edwin could've been doing all these years. Looking down briefly at his scarred forearms he mused that maybe he had _some_ idea.

The touch to his face shocked him, Merlin's palm warmer than expected as it turned his face gently forward again, the man not exactly close enough to count it as an invasion but certainly closer than he'd ever deigned to be before on friendly terms.

"I will." Merlin started, confusing him briefly as the hand slowly slipped away and back down to the warlock's side, his other hand still in his pocket. "Let you, I mean. I'll let you use the horn. No strings attached. But..."

"But?" Merlin was looking at him strangely, his heartbeat picking up as they stared at each other.

Letting out a small sigh he answered. "But you should know that he isn't your responsibility. He's a grown man. His actions are his own... But if he's doing wrong, and you want to stop him... I'll help you do that too."

For a moment he didn't know what to say, gaze drifting away till it caught on how Merlin's hand kept fidgeting in his pocket. "... what're you doing?"

Looking back up at Merlin's face he found him flushed pink to the tips of his ears, the dark haired man scratching the back of his head anxiously. "Oh, well... Back in Nemea..."

From his pocket he produced a small carved wooden figure, a sleeping lion Arthur belatedly realized, the infernal man looking even more embarrassed now that it was out in the open. "I thought you might like a memento. But then we had to flee and the whole business with you and then Leon yesterday... I never got around to giving it to you. So... here."

He pressed it into his palm and it was as warm as Merlin's hand had been against his face, Arthur running his fingers over it gently as he inspected the trinket carefully. He hadn't thought something that small could make him feel so much, but this... It was possibly his first real gift.

"Thank you." Arthur murmured, throat thick with something he couldn't quite describe. It felt a little like being choked. "For this... and for the sentiment. I don't expect you to do anything, but... it's nice to know that you'd extend so much. And to a former blackmailer no less."

Merlin laughed at that, following the sound with a hand in Arthur's hair that ruffled it into a mess. Somehow he couldn't feel even a little aggravated by the action, the blonde just smoothing it back down as Merlin spoke, warmth curling low in his belly. "Honestly that's the least of what you are to me now. I think at the top of the list you'd be a friend... secondly a prat... third a clotpole... then _maybe_ a blackmailer. It's currently tied with you being a total turniphead."

Arthur snorted loudly, punching Merlin's shoulder lightly with his free hand and earning another fit of laughter. "Ow! Maybe I'll have to add bully to that list as well!"

"Oh absolutely." He chuckled, rolling his eyes. "I'll have to add 'total petticoat' to yours."

"Oi, don't be insulting!"

"Can't take as good as you give?"

Merlin paused, eyes briefly narrowing before he reeled back and punched Arthur in the arm. "Oh, I can!"

Laughing sharply at that he grabbed Merlin around the neck with the crook of his arm, trapping him in a headlock and pulling him around as the warlock shoved on him. "You arse!! Let me go!"

"Thought you could take a little horseplay, _Mer_ lin!"

"You're both absolute idiots. Don't you know there's people and animals about that are trying to get a little sleep?" Gwaine groaned, interrupting the pair of them and making them freeze in place, both panting from the effort of the play fighting. The man was clutching his cloak around himself and looking bleary eyed at them like he'd just stumbled up from sleep and straight out to them. Odds were he had done exactly that, Arthur thought.

"I don't think I feel like apologizing. You're probably one of those sleep till noon bards." Merlin commented, finally extricating himself from Arthur's loosened hold, straightening his hair and clothes with a catty sort of grin.

"Oh heavens above you're a _morning_ person." The scruffy man groaned, his sentence trailing off into a yawn. "I have been cursed this day, clearly."

"Oh go back to bed." Merlin replied, looking briefly at Arthur before heading back toward the cabin. "We'll leave in a few hours time, till then you can continue to deafen me with your snoring."

Running his fingertips over the wooden lion Arthur smiled to himself before following, anticipation beginning to build. Soon he'd know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be a bit short compared to the others (I have no idea, I don't have a word counter) but I couldn't see reason in keeping this back to add anything more into it so here it is!


	10. The Gate of Bedwyn

They headed out a few hours later as promised, Gwaine grumbling the entire time as he stretched and yawned, plodding along at the back of their group. The good mood from the morning had carried well into the afternoon, Merlin and Arthur carrying on ribbing each other as though they'd not come to know each other only a few days prior. Gwaine eventually pulled his lute from his back and began to sing loudly over them, reducing the pair to giggles as he shaped a bawdy tale from seemingly random names.

They meandered along old roads, Merlin pausing every now and again to reorient as though he was some fashion of living compass, his vague explanation of "seeing the path ahead" via his magic making Arthur and the bard share a baffled look. Magic was perhaps one of the most convenient things in the world.

"What's Bedwyn like?" Arthur asked after finally getting the place's name out of Merlin, the dark haired man shrugging his shoulders at the question. "You don't know anything?"

Merlin muttered something under his breath, waving a hand vaguely ahead of himself. "All I know is that it's where the gate is that corresponds to the horn. Given that I have the horn, I can use my magic to find it."

The blonde man frowned, fairly put out by the meager means they were going along by.

"There's a few songs about it." Gwaine offered, his lute still slung across his belly. "Probably the most magical kingdom over all, at least so they say. Supposedly full of lingering Fae, Wyverns, and Druids."

Arthur furrowed his brow at the odd collection, the bard picking at his strings as he continued. "The battle of Mab and Vivienne is one of their well known tales. Sad one, that, but quite catchy."

It took Arthur's flat look for Gwaine to realize, the bard chuckling to himself. "Sorry, forgot exactly who I'm addressing. Want to hear it?"

"If your voice can take it." The blonde replied, quirking a brow at the sheepish look on Gwaine's face.

"Might have a little scratch to it after my earlier caterwauling, but pay it no mind. I'm fine." Merlin snorted loudly at the commentary, the bard beginning to play properly, the low tones shaping the mood of it instantly.

The tale Gwaine sang of was of two Fae Queens: Mab of the Night and Vivienne of the Day. Mistakenly presumed enemies by Bedwyn's King he attempted to seduce and pit them against one another for his benefit, the revelation of their actual wedded status coming when the pair struck him down and took the kingdom for themselves. Mab, Vivienne, and their many children ruled the land for a long while till Mab grew bored. In stark contrast to her wife's boredom, Vivienne was still smitten with mortal plights, and when she found Mab cruelly taking her boredom out on their human subjects she came to their defense. Their marriage came to an abrupt end with Mab returning to the Fae realm after a hail of curses were cast upon the kingdom, Vivienne retiring to the waters of Bedwyn out of shame and despair.

"What happened to all their children?" Merlin questioned as Gwaine's song trailed off, the bard grimacing as he glanced skyward. "Did the story not say?"

"I should hope to never find out. Surely children of Mab would not take kindly to meeting a man like me."

"You think they'd not favor scruffy bards of questionable character?" Merlin teased lightly, earning a laugh out of Gwaine for his trouble, though something about it seemed strained to Arthur.

"I think being a bard would be the least of my problems in that scenario."

"So cryptic." Arthur chuckled. "It's almost like you've got secrets."

"Almost."

***

"Why were they Queens of Night and Day?" The blonde asked after a lengthy quiet spell, Merlin yet again adjusting their trajectory through the steadily more hilly terrain, Gwaine grumbling under his breath about his aching thighs and knees.

Frowning a bit Gwaine slowed, glancing up at the Sun's position briefly, puzzling Arthur further in the meantime. "It's said Fae, though unaffected by time as we are, are still beholden to it in some ways. Their power waxes and wanes like the Moon herself based on the influence they're under... Vivienne was of Noon and Mab of Midnight... two sides of the same coin, able to protect one another and aid each other more effectively than any pair before them."

"A worthy sounding couple." The hermit pondered, stopping at the rise of the hill they'd just climbed, looking back over how far they'd come. The forest they'd come through was shockingly far behind them. "If it's as you say no wonder the story ended like it did."

"While opposites attract... they're still opposites." The bard hummed, scratching absently behind one ear. "A sustained opposition comes at a price... and Fae rarely change."

Arthur didn't really know what to make of that, his thoughts briefly flickering toward Edwin and his seemingly unchanged presence, the hermit's chest tightening slightly as they continued along. Alignments of that kind seemed foolish, but he couldn't stop his tongue. "Are you certain you know no stories of their children? Your fear has to be based upon _something_."

"Anyone with a brain would fear a Fae, Arthur." Gwaine grunted, slowing to a stop and sitting on a fallen tree trunk, Merlin thankfully taking note at their departure from their pace. The bearded man grimaced and the pinched the bridge of his nose. "I continually forget who I'm talking to."

"You should probably see someone about that." Merlin chuckled lightly, coming to stand beside Arthur as he awaited his answer. "Sounds like it's a real problem, right Arthur?"

"Oh absolutely. Surely confusion like that isn't healthy." The blonde man agreed, the pair of them earning a dirty look from Gwaine.

"Har har, very funny you lot." The bard grumbled, pulling his lute back around. "I've obviously spoiled you both with my lovely, dulcet tones and now you're both addicted. Woe is I."

"You could just _tell_ us the story instead of singing." Merlin pointed out blithely, grinning broadly as Gwaine looked scandalized.

"Surely not." The bard sniffed, scrubbing a hand through his beard irritably. "However would I maintain my flawless image if I started doing that?"

"Flawless image, he says." Merlin sniggered, Gwaine sticking his tongue out at the impish sorcerer as he started strumming again.

"Good luck getting another one out of me after this, pretty boy. Your jibes won't be soon forgotten!"

"Oh woe is I!"

Arthur huffed out a laugh and shoved on Merlin a little. "Shut up already! I want to hear the story!"

"He can't resist flirting with me. I'm irresistible." Gwaine chuckled out as he winked at Arthur cheekily, going straight into the story then so no more interruptions could occur.

So far Arthur couldn't say he was sick of Gwaine's voice, the man's dulcet tones a novelty he was still unused to despite it's judicious use in the little time they'd been around one another. There had been no instruments or singing in the tower, Arthur's few attempts scoffed at and complained about mightily by Edwin when he'd tried once upon a time. He wondered if Gwaine might teach him if he asked or if his voice really was not worth the time to train.

The song was improvised, Gwaine weaving together bits and pieces of hearsay about Bedwyn's otherworldly royalty into something cohesive. The majority of it was the tales of mischief of the youngest son, a prince named Gwynn of the Dusk. Interspersed were more somber tales of his elder siblings, some going unnamed by time (or perhaps fear of the name) save for three of the seven that preceded Gwynn himself. Penarddun, the youngest daughter made war with about every magical race available. Golfannon, one of the middle brothers, was famed for cursing people for sport. The most chilling was that of Arianrhod, said to enchant any she came across so entirely that she could make them walk themselves to death with a single word.

"Sounds like they all take after Mab." Arthur observed, pushing the absurd thought away that was plaguing him more and more after hearing of what Fae might do. Gwynn's exploits, though mostly that of a benign or inconveniencing manner, still had an edge of danger to them. He wondered if there were other things in this world that might be so... whimsical with the lives of others. If Edwin could be one such thing.

If Edwin were some kind of Fae in a mad turn of events.

"Frankly there's not much about Vivienne aside from her soft spot. It's all too possible that Mab and Vivienne were simply the same Fae." The bard sighed, standing as Merlin started to move forward again, Arthur reluctantly following along as well. "The stories are far older than you'd think... with so much time between when they were woven and now who knows what has been lost and what gaps might've been patched."

"Patched? Really?"

Gwaine just shrugged, looking to the sky again. "Plenty of people have different versions of the story of the Nemean Lion. Some are complete bastardizations, others are tweaked."

"What about your's?" The blonde prodded, looking the bard over curiously as a look of melancholy seemed to overcome him entirely. Finally Gwaine turned his head and smiled broadly, the look not quite reaching his eyes.

"Why mine is entirely true, my dear Arthur."

***

Bedwyn's lands started to live up to their mysterious history as they closed in on their destination, Arthur baffled by the sensation he was feeling despite being able to pinpoint the name for it. He was feeling magic, the very magic of the earth, thrumming thickly as they passed through the scattered ruins of something lost to time. Had it been a sacred place? Or was the land of Bedwyn merely steeped in such power that one could practically breathe it in?

"It won't be long now." Merlin murmured, Arthur noticing vaguely that it almost appeared as though the man's hair was standing on end with static, the dark locks bizarrely fluffy as they walked through the humid, magic laden place.

"Are you all right?" The hermit questioned carefully, absently twisting the strap of his bag as he watched the warlock for any sign of distress. Could someone with actual power over their magic be hurt by such a place?

When Merlin turned back to look at him Arthur's brow furrowed, immediately noting the sparks that seemed to dance through the blue of the warlock's irises. "I'm fine, just..."

"Magic's getting into you." Gwaine observed bluntly, looking not terribly comfortable with their surroundings let alone the goings on. "The sooner we get your errands done, the better off we'll be."

Arthur and Merlin shared a baffled look as Gwaine herded them along, the warlock altering their trajectory as the headiness seemed to increase. The hermit wasn't sure he could take much more of it, his skin tingling in a way that felt overwhelming, Arthur wondering if something similar was happening to his eyes.

The ruins seemed to abate and open onto a rather plain looking field, the only thing before them aside from the rolling plane a collection of broad stones arranged upright in a circle, the sight of them immediately making Arthur's hair stand on end.

They had finally arrived.

***

Merlin didn't know what to feel with the long journey at long last coming to a kind of end, the Gate before him seemingly calling out to him as he scooped the horn from his bag. Stepping forward slowly he took a quick glance back at his companions, holding a hand out in silent askance for them to stay put. "I'll be back."

"You better be." Arthur shot back, trepidation clear on his face. Gwaine didn't look particularly comfortable either, the strange lighting making him look aglow. As they'd approached the Sun had been approaching setting, but now it seemed they were caught in a sort of pink twilight with how mist rose from the ground around them.

Taking a deep breath he just gave them both a little grin, turning around and not slowing his pace till he stood at the center of the circle that made the Gate, raising the horn to his lips carefully. Glancing skyward he took in a deep breath through his nose and the blew into it, the sound shocking in its volume.

Fog rose around Merlin instantly, blinding him completely as he fought hard not to panic. This was what he was after. It was only magic.

Simply magic.

"Who do you seek to speak with, child?" A woman's voice startled him out of his skin, Merlin stumbling away from the source a few steps before regaining his composure, finding a woman cloaked in heavy, black cloth standing at his side.

Clearing his throat awkwardly the warlock gathered his nerve and answered. "My father, my Lady. Balinor Aerson."

She glanced him over briefly, as though judging his choice before she nodded her assent, tapping her stave against the earth with an impossibly loud thump before a man materialized before his eyes.

Merlin's throat closed up momentarily as he looked his father over, the bearded man looking just barely older than he was now. It hurt to know that his father had not lived long after leaving his mother behind. He wasn't sure how he would tell her after all this was over.

"Hello son." Balinor greeted, his voice shockingly deep yet gentle. "Not an ideal meeting, is it?"

The warlock let out a choked laugh, wiping at his eyes quickly as he answered. "No, no it's not..."

The woman beside him cleared her throat a little, making Merlin jump again. She looked at him expectantly, making no further interjection other than that. "Ehm, well... I... I'm not here just to say hello. I'm... I need to know how to speak Dragon tongue."

Balinor looked surprised, his gaze softening somewhat with melancholy at the mention. "Ah, not many yet left of us to teach you... But there is still a way. A long one, but a way still."

"Please, tell me what I must do. I'll do anything if it means I can stop further fighting."

The Dragonlord looked sad at that, scrubbing a hand awkwardly through his hair as the other curled over his side, his arm across his belly. "You must go home."

Merlin couldn't believe his ears, heart jumping into his throat. "But Father-!"

Balinor shook his head, holding up a hand to silence Merlin. "You must go home. To our ancestral territory, where your birthright rests. There is a spell in the catacombs there, one that can call the dragon out of you. Using that spell will give you what you need, but you must be careful, Caer Ddraig is a dangerous place now..."

"You couldn't just..." Merlin started, swallowing thickly as he took a step closer to his Father, wondering just how robust the spell was that had called him to that realm. "...teach me it? Right now?"

His Father smiled sadly at him, shaking his head as he stepped into Merlin's space, shocking the warlock as he reached up and ruffled his hair. "My time here is not long, dear heart, no matter how much I wish that I could linger."

"Father..." Merlin choked out, lip wobbling just slightly as Balinor pulled him into a hug.

"My dear boy... Be well, be careful, and remember that I love you." Tone weakening noticeably as Merlin hugged him back, Balinor spoke a final few words. "I love you both so very, very much..."

The spell dissolving was abrupt, the fog dissipating in an instant and leaving Merlin woefully alone in the middle of the Gate, the horn still in hand.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted from the edge, the warlock quickly wiping his face with his shirt sleeve before turning his head and forcing a smile.

The bard and hermit stared back at him with worry as he turned around completely, trudging back to the pair of gawkers as though what had transpired in that strange realm hadn't affected him as profoundly as it had. He almost didn't want to hand the horn over to Arthur, the ache inside him making him wonder if Arthur would regret following in his footsteps.

"Did it work?" The blonde asked carefully, his gaze flicking back and forth as he clearly tried to pick up on what Merlin was thinking.

Clearing his throat a bit Merlin found himself nodding. "It did... Just..." He started down at the horn before looking back to Arthur. "Are you certain you want to do this too?"

Arthur seemed baffled by the question, looking between the horn and the warlock a few times before screwing up his face into a rather indignant look. "What?"

"I just..." Merlin gestured awkwardly, trying not to get tongue tied. "It was... it was hard... on me..."

Understanding thankfully dawned on Arthur's face following that meek admission, the blonde sharing a brief look with Gwaine before putting out his hand, his lips pursed and brow furrowed with determination. "I can do it... even if it's hard on me."

"Arthur-"

"Give me the horn, Merlin." He stated, Merlin aggravated by his interruption and about ready to argue. "I'll be fine. I promise you."

For whatever reason the earnest promise made the argument die on his tongue, his shoulders slumping slightly as he put the horn into Arthur's palm. "All right..."

***

Arthur didn't give Merlin time to come up with anything more to try and interrupt his shot, the blonde rushing forward to stand at the center of the Gate as he'd seen Merlin do, taking a deep, fortifying breath, before raising the horn to his lips and blowing.

White enveloped him but he didn't feel ill at ease with it, the confidence of knowing Merlin had gone in and come out all right keeping his resolve from crumbling. He could do this. He could get through this no problem. He had to.

"Who do you seek to speak to, child?" The woman's voice was unexpected but he didn't flinch too badly when his mental mantra was interrupted, turning his head to find a woman shrouded in black standing at his side.

"I wish to speak to my parents, er..." He ducked his head a bit, shamefaced as he forced himself to continue looking her in the eye. "What is it that I might call you?"

"I am the Cailleach Bhéara, mistress of the Gate and what lies beyond." She replied primly, though thankfully she appeared unoffended by his ignorance. Bhéara inclined her head as they looked at one another, leaning slightly on her staff that Arthur had barely taken notice of, her thumb idly stroking the knotted wood. "Your request is a strange one, child. Do you know why?"

Arthur's brow furrowed, his gut twisting oddly as the woman eyed him, her expression not one that instilled confidence. "No, Cailleach Bhéara, I do not."

"It is because you are calling out to the living in the land of the dead, child. Your parents have not yet passed through the Gate."

At his core he went cold with disbelief, his heart picking up it's pace as he tried to process that.

"They're...?"

"They're alive, child, and I can not call upon them."

"But- but... Gregor and Jaden Muirden died! My brother told me so!" He exclaimed, panic rising as he thought of all his answers slipping through his fingers just like that. How many lies had Edwin told him!? Their parents were alive!?

The Cailleach looked at him with something like pity in her eyes, the woman leaning in slightly. "It is true what you say. Gregor and Jaden Muirden have passed on... but they are _not_ who you asked for."

"But- but..." Arthur pressed a hand against his forehead, gripping the horn tight with the other as his mind worked.

"Your parents live." She murmured. "His do not."

And then without another word she and the fog were gone, Arthur left shattered in the middle of the Gate, the blonde man crumpling to his knees as the last of his reality dissolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me an agonizingly long time and I have no idea why. Hope you guys enjoy it!


	11. Promised

When the fog dispelled and revealed Arthur again Merlin's stomach dropped, regret consuming him momentarily before he took notice of his already moving feet, the warlock helping the blonde to his feet silently. He wanted to ask what Arthur had seen to leave his face so dark, but the stiff way he held himself gave Merlin pause, the warlock instead just leading him back to Gwaine. After a few seconds of silence Arthur put the horn into Merlin's hands, averting his gaze when the bard attempted to catch his attention.

Clearing his throat awkwardly the warlock shuffled his feet a little, putting the horn into his bag after a moment or two. "My Father told me where to go... But I do not know the way."

"A place where your magic could not lead you?" Gwaine asked, inclining his head slightly with the question.

Huffing slightly he carded a hand through his hair, frowning at the bard. "The magic I used utilized the horn's ties to the Gate... this... I have nothing tied to Caer Ddraig to lead me."

Scrubbing a hand through his beard Gwaine cocked his head, considering the sky a moment before gesturing toward the treeline. "Whatever the issues are, we should surmount them tomorrow. Night is falling quickly."

Finding the sky was indeed closing it's curtain on day Merlin and Gwaine hurried the blonde gently onward, the men putting together an awning over a ruined corner left of some stone structure with what tent materials the bard carried, sheltered in addition by a few nearby trees. The pair went about kindling a fire and putting minor wards up respectively, Merlin glancing at where Arthur sat staring off into space every few minutes. He'd barely moved since he settled down, his index finger and thumb pressed against his forehead as he leaned his arm against the meager excuse for a wall. Merlin couldn't tell if it was contemplation or some form of disassociation that came with shock.

Their evening meal and the subsequent time spent winding down gave Merlin little cause for confidence, Arthur's responses short grunts at best. Laying back a while Merlin waited till the bard seemed to be sawing logs with his nose and throat before turning over to face the blonde, tentatively reaching out and prodding him gently. "...Arthur?"

Without a sound Arthur opened his eyes, just staring back at him.

"Will you tell me what happened?" He asked softly, stomach knotting as the other man averted his gaze. "You don't have to."

Huffing a breath through his nose Arthur looked at him again, his mouth set in a grim line. His eyes looked sort of wet in the low light, but perhaps Merlin was seeing things. "...she told me they weren't my parents."

The tone alone made his heart clench, the warlock scrambling to wrap his mind around the words he'd just heard. He couldn't imagine how awful an experience it had been to come so close to answers only to be given more questions. Unthinkingly Merlin scooted himself closer, biting his lip as he tried to come up with something to say to that. "I'm so sorry."

Arthur snorted at that response, lifting a hand and pressing the heel of it to one eye. "She said mine were still alive if that's any sort of consolation." The tremor to his voice didn't make it sound terribly convincing, Merlin watching as the man wrapped his arms around himself, eyes closing again.

"I don't know about consolation..." Merlin murmured after a few seconds of silence, not eager to let Arthur wallow in his despair. "But... I suppose it's a kindness, her telling you that at all." A wry laugh worked it's way out of Arthur, the warlock trying not to cringe at the hollow sound. "Either way, I was... I was wondering if you still wanted to..."

"To?" Arthur echoed, opening his eyes and glancing over Merlin with a bemused expression, his tense frame relaxing just slightly as he focused.

"If you were still willing to come with me, knowing what you know now."

Arthur looked at him like he'd grown another head and then a third for good measure. "What I now know." He paraphrased, squinting at Merlin as he spoke. Something about the look made Merlin want to squirm with discomfort but he bore it, laying still as the other man scrutinized him. "What I know now, Merlin... means very little where you're concerned. One does not effect the other. If anything... it simplifies things a little in that regard."

"It does?" He can't help but immediately ask, too curious to let silence hang even a second between.

Nodding slightly Arthur let his gaze slide away, the man sucking in a breath before answering. "I had intentions to return to the tower. I... was going to ask you to come with. Seeing as things stand... there's no point."

Merlin pursed his lips a moment or two, trying to keep from second guessing the other man. Arthur, seeing the look however, huffed and reached over, flicking his nose. "Oh just out with it. You're going to faint from holding your breath."

"I wasn't holding my breath." He muttered, rubbing at the sore end of his nose before squinting at the blonde a moment, reworking the question in his mind before relaxing again. "Look... I'm just surprised. I thought that you'd want to, y'know, rush back home and confront him about it. It's not every day one finds out that their brother isn't really their's."

"Well, Merlin, seeing as you said what sort of magic he's been practicing is of a dangerous nature... That really seems rather counter-productive. Seems the way you were describing things I'd be more likely to be harvested the rest of the way than get a straight answer out of him." Taking a deep breath in the blonde raised his hands again and dragged his fingers down his face. "Gods above, Merlin, do you think... do you think he stole me?"

Cringing at the question the warlock shrugged, squirming into a more comfortable position, half on his back with his legs still on their side. "I mean... it's possible? It's also possible that his parents stole you and the whole thing he was saying happened. Sometimes..." He grimaced, waving his hand a bit. "Sometimes when people lose a baby and someone else has had one 'round the same time they'll do something mad like take the other couple's child as a replacement."

"You've got to be kidding." Arthur groaned, wrinkling his nose as he watched Merlin gesticulate. "That makes no sense."

"People are odd like that... If they lose something... sometimes they lash out in mad ways." He sighed. "Excellent example? King of Camelot. He's been lashing out for twenty years because of what happened to his Queen."

Arthur frowned, raising an eyebrow. "What happened to her?"

Merlin turned his head, lips parting momentarily before he finally caught up. "You didn't overhear it?"

"No, I must've drifted." He frowned, waving vaguely at Merlin after a moment. "Also you've been needlessly cryptic the entire time, you pillock." Arthur added, earning a little laugh from Merlin for his ire.

"The Queen was cursed, she now languishes beneath the castle in the form of a great dragon." Merlin murmured, tone dropping a bit as Gwaine stirred and turned over on his other side. "I've seen her... and spoken with one that keeps her company. If I could only speak with her directly or the others I am certain that I would be able to find a means to cure her."

"And... you'll be able to?"

"If what my father said remains true." He answered, trying to keep his tone more optimistic than he was actually feeling. "Caer Ddraig had been ruined long before I was born, when my father was half my age. I read about it once... Dragons and their kindred used to be prevalent..."

"I only had one tale of a dragon... Wasn't terribly stimulating so I didn't read it very often." Arthur offered, finally turning over onto his back and staring up at their meager canopy. "A giant slayer named Aeneas married a dragon. Bizarre story. Not really sure what was trying to be said with it."

"The only Aeneas I've heard of was a King." Merlin hummed, yawning widely thereafter before turning back onto his side fully.

"Well... if the King of Camelot can have a dragon for a wife, I suppose Aeneas who married a dragon might as well be a King too."

For whatever reason Arthur's entirely benign comment sent them both into a chuckling fit, Gwaine huffing loudly and turning over to snore loudly, though now it sounded particularly more put on than the genuine log felling his nostrils had been doing before.

"Best let sleeping bards lie." Arthur whispered, shoulders shaking a bit as he tried to hold in his laughter.

"Oh certainly." Merlin laughed, earning a kick to the behind by the aforementioned bard.

"You're both terrible for my beauty rest! Next tavern we see I'm getting a room away from the lot of you!"

"I'm sure we'll still be able to hear you snoring." The hermit shot back, Merlin losing it a moment later, Gwaine kicking out at him again.

***

When dawn broke Merlin woke with it, finding himself with his forehead practically pressed to Arthur's in how they're curled toward one another. The warlock blinked owlishly as he processed how close they were, the hermit sleeping on blissfully unaware of the strange situation they were in. Taking a calming breath in Merlin slowly pulled away and sat up, briefly sending out a tendril of magic to check that his wards had gone undisturbed. They seemed untouched, only a few impressions of passing animals attracted by the lingering scent of their dinner the night before.

"A rare thing, mortals kicking around here any more. I can't remember the last time I felt the maw of that Gate open." An unfamiliar tenor hummed, curious lilting tone making Merlin freeze. "You're not a Penndraig brat, are you?"

Turning slowly Merlin found a lithe person floating by in a lounging position, smoothly gliding by as though they were a log carried on water. Their eyes were disconcertingly cat-like, down to the predatory pupils that peeked at him as the stranger blinked. Their skin had a strange, otherworldly sheen that rounded out his immediate sense of danger now faced with the interloper, his magic warming his palms as Merlin considered his options. "Family name had Draig to it at one point, but can't say I'm a Penndraig."

The stranger squinted at him, turning over onto their stomach as they peered at Merlin's face. "A Draig who's not a Penndraig? Yet you have what Altheas stole? Sounds suspect."

Merlin wrinkled his nose, finally catching their meaning completely. "Sorry, not any kind of royalty."

"There's something to you, regardless of that." The stranger crooned, suddenly smirking as they weaved overhead, making Merlin turn to keep an eye on them. "You all stink of magic thickly... But that can't be all."

"Is there an introduction coming?" Merlin asked, faking a good natured smile. "Because I really have to get on with making breakfast."

"Oh, cheeky thing." The stranger cooed, batting their eyelashes cattily at him as they kicked over into a sitting position, resting their chin on their hand. "My apologies, Not-Penndraig. My name is Gwynn."

One of the faeries from Gwaine's tales... Oh this wasn't good. Looking on either side of him he frowned, brows knitting as he found his companions still sound asleep.

"Funny... so much magic among you and only you were able to wake from my spell. You've got more than you let on, Not-Penndraig. Do your companions know?" Gwynn asked, the catty grin back. "Or are you even unaware of your own peculiarities?"

"Why did you cast a spell on us?" Merlin asked instead of pursuing the bizarre thought line the fae had brought to the table, Gwynn looking surprised that it was completely passed over. "Do you mean us harm?"

"Depends on the manner." The faerie replied, Merlin's hair standing on end as the predatory eyes took on a strange kind of sharpness, indefinable in how it was expressed for Gwynn had hardly changed their expression. "What is harm to humans? We deal in such different terms, I can hardly keep straight what one might find offensible." They tapped their index finger against their bottom lip, humming softly. "Mother's so much better at reading you lot."

"I'm not happy that you cast a spell on us, but if you lift it there will be no harm done. If you mean to do much further than that I'd be mightily offended." Merlin answered, briefly stumped by the archaic usage. "We've too much to accomplish to be waylaid by your whims."

Gwynn cooed softly again, seeming amused by the warlock's response. "You've been tromping through my lands a long while, whether you recognize it for what it is or not so to my whims you will be waylaid. A King is still a King, no matter their kingdom, and you should pay homage for such use you've put my realm to."

The power that flowed out of the fae enveloped him, the sheer pressure that Merlin felt from it flirting with suffocation, the warlock gasping for breath when he was released from the hold. "What will you pay, little curiosity? What will Not-Penndraig pay his King to let him go on his merry way?"

Merlin's mind raced, wanting desperately to fight this sudden interloper rather than kowtow to them by any means, but after that demonstration... There was no way. He was utterly outclassed for the moment. "I have nothing to give. I am a poor man in my own right, and I am far from home."

"Well... Offer me something... I suppose your name would do." A shiver rolled up Merlin's spine at the suggestion, knowing full well what a fae might do with only a name, watching wide eyed as Gwynn ticked the options off on their fingers. "I could take one of your companions for my own designs if that is disagreeable... Or something much more devastating?"

Panic rising in Merlin's chest he glanced around frantically, biting the inside of his cheek as he reached up behind his neck and picked apart the knot of his kerchief. Pulling the fabric away he considered his words carefully, thrusting the token out in front of him. "I can only offer this."

Gwynn looked appropriately baffled, reaching out carefully and sliding the cloth from Merlin's palm, holding it up and studying it. "And what is it you offer? Mortal cloth work?"

"My favor." Merlin clarified. "A representation of a promise, a powerful thing mortals possess."

The faerie laughed, winding the cloth around their hand. "Oh ho? And just what do you plan to promise me with this... your mortal favor?" Their eyes took on an unsettling glitter, like stars twinkling in a moonless sky.

Taking a deep breath Merlin pressed a hand over his heart, his tone steady as though he was beginning an incantation. "I promise to you, Gwynn, King of Bedwyn, that I will return with a tribute worthy of your name."

At that Gwynn inclined their head, considering Merlin a long while before they gathered the fabric into their palm, closing their other hand over it. "Very well." They said, pulling their hands away to reveal that Merlin's kerchief had simply vanished. "Your promise is accepted. If you fail to follow through know that generations forward will pay your debts."

"Understood." Merlin replied, gritting his teeth. "Now release us so I might comply."

"As you wish." And with that they were gone, Gwaine groaning as he started to wake. Heaving a sigh of relief Merlin's shoulders sagged, the warlock pressing his face into his hands. So much for a peaceful morning.

***

As he'd suspected Gwaine seemed far more petrified than Arthur did at the notion of the fae encounter, the blonde brave faced solely through inexperience. Merlin wondered how Gwaine came to be appropriately fearful briefly, the final bits of packing up distracting him enough to forget the thought completely.

"The sooner we get to the border of this land the better. Surely there will be a town where we can reorient ourselves. If your homeland is well known someone will have a direction to point us in." The bard posited, shouldering his bag and gesturing off toward the North.

"I don't know about it being that well known... It's lain in ruin for some time." Merlin sighed, Arthur nudging him into moving along after the bard. The blonde man for whatever reason seemed glued to his side this morning, Merlin wondering if it was the altercation with Gwynn making him behave as such or if it had been their conversation about the Gate before that. Something about it made Merlin long to reach out and take Arthur's hand, his face going hot at the strange thought that'd gripped him.

Where had that even come from?

"Come on, Merlin. You're holding everything up." Arthur needled, pushing him along like some kind of sheep dog. "Before we incur any further fickle fae wrath."

"If any one would offend the King's sensibilities it surely would be you. The only reason I'm bound is because you lazy sods couldn't break through the spell on your own." He joked, trying to reign in his emotions as the hermit continued to hurry him along. After a few minutes of Arthur hurrying him Merlin felt like he lost his mind a bit, seizing the blonde by the hand, surely only to keep him from prodding him like an over eager moron.

Surely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get this away from me holy fuck


	12. Crossroads

The borderlands of Dyrham were not as far as they'd thought, though Arthur wondered idly if the Fae King had hastened their departure, perhaps some twisted boon given to them so Merlin might do whatever bidding they'd had in mind.

As though there'd been a shroud about the place very suddenly Arthur was aware of the mountain ranges. They had been so distant in Camelot and were startlingly ever so close in Dyrham, their jagged peaks rising toward the heavens in a manner which shocked him more than expected, finally seeing them in greater detail making his heartbeat pick up some. He hadn't considered just how far he was from home now.

Arthur wondered idly just how far he'd go.

Seemingly he was homeless now and resigned to the thought that he would never, not ever, face his brother- _Edwin_ again. Whatever the story was, Arthur didn't want to hear it. He couldn't. He'd had enough hurt in his heart.

What loss was it, really? Living with Edwin had been a special sort of torment in itself, now that he had something to compare his experiences to. Being in the company of people who were kind to him was still a culture shock in itself, Arthur remembering well the bitter words and sharp looks oft delivered upon his person.

Not to mention _the actual knife_.

Gritting his teeth at the thought, humiliation boiled in his gut, Arthur rubbing one wrist absently as they trudged ever forward. He hated that he was so naive, so trusting that something that could hurt could end in anything but more.

His entire existence amounted to being some kind of detriment. Arthur was at fault.

"Arthur?"

He blinked rapidly, quickly letting go of his wrist and focusing on Gwaine, the bard raising an eyebrow at him. "Er... what was that?"

"We're almost to town." Gwaine repeated, clapping the blonde on the shoulder in a companionable manner. "I was saying I'm going to suss out where to get a room. Do you want to go with me, or are you going to kick about with Merlin?"

The tiny quirk to Gwaine's lips was dangerous, making Arthur feel overly warm as his eyes twinkled. What an awful man. "Oh. Right. Erm... What's Merlin going to get up to?" He hardly thought that it would take two to figure out where they could sleep for the night.

"He's decided he's going to ask after whether anyone about knows a thing about the Caer." The bard replied, shrugging his shoulders. Arthur sighed through his nose, finally noting that Merlin was not far off, already doing just that. Well. Room getting it was, he supposed.

Clearly gleaning his answer the bard hooked his arm through Arthur's, the blonde raising his eyebrows at the gesture before giving Gwaine a puzzled look. The bard just grinned broadly and shrugged his shoulders. "Shall we go?"

Arthur nodded slightly, the bard starting off without warning and making him stumble. "Gwaine!"

"Careful there! Don't want to put your nose any more out of whack than it already is." Gwaine chirped smartly, Arthur coloring at the mention of one of his most notable features. He'd taken a rather drastic fall when he was little, the vague impression of the incident tugging at him briefly before he banished it, resisting the urge to touch his nose on pure reflex. He'd never considered it a flaw, but once in a while he'd find himself wondering if it was too large. Some of the wayward barbs Edwin had thrown at him had had to do with it and it was hard to leave behind.

"You sure it's wise to split up after all that?" Arthur sighed out instead, rolling his eyes slightly.

"We're all grown men, Arthur." The bard said, taking Arthur by the arm and steering him along. "Merlin has his wits about him, and I told him we'd come back and get him once we'd secured ourselves some rooms."

***

When Gwaine had said "we'd come back" ended up meaning Arthur alone, the bard scurrying up the stairs before Arthur could stop him. With a sigh and another roll of his eyes he went to the designated meeting spot: a tall stone column that stood in the center of the town's square. Frowning a bit at the odd monument he paced around it, examining the strange stone and taking note of how it glittered as he moved about, touching edge of it gingerly as though it might bite him.

"It's made from quartz."

Arthur narrowly avoided flinching at the interruption to his bland ponderings, turning to find that Merlin had come to stand beside him, the pale man reaching out and touching the side of it without fear. "There are ancient mines in the mountains. Petty Kings and Warlords of old liked to decorate with it... It's incidentally quite good for those of us with magic. This kind is quite good at soothing troubled minds."

The warlock smiled at Arthur; the hermit unable to resist the urge to smile back, and tapped the face of the column. "It's no wonder this town is quite calm. A piece this size is quite potent."

Arthur turned and looked at the column again, braving putting his palm fully against the strange stone. He wondered if he should feel anything more than the coolness of it beneath his hand.

"So, where's Gwaine got off to?"

"I think he collapsed beneath the weight of his own charms." Arthur replied smartly, grinning at Merlin before gesturing back toward the street behind them. "The inn is just down there." Pausing a moment he remembered himself, looking curiously to the warlock. "Did you find what you were hoping to?"

"Mm... not as such." He replied, smile waning slightly. "But to expect the first place I try to hold the answers is folly. At the most I've an inkling of my own to turn my eyes toward the mountains. Of what I've heard over the years about the dragons is true, then many once lived in the ranges. Perhaps Caer Ddraig is there."

On the way down the road Merlin stops when he spies something, the warlock offering it to him with a smile when he straightened back up. "Here, a keepsake."

Arthur raised his eyebrows at that, Merlin opening his hand to reveal an oblong shard of what appeared to be the same sort of stone, Arthur picking it up gingerly and turning it. The quartz glinted in the light pleasingly, and he smiled a bit at the fact Merlin even thought to grab it for him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Merlin replied, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Figured you might like something to go with the lion."

***

It comes to light a little while later that Gwaine had made good on his threat, leaving Merlin and Arthur to their own devices with a room that decidedly was made up for travelers with a different sort of relationship. Arthur didn't know if he should feel bothered or not, vaguely remembering how he'd woken in the night to his face being buried against Merlin's back. Perhaps it wasn't odd for uninvolved people to share a bed from time to time?

Merlin's response itself was giving him mixed signals, the dark haired man looking nervous then nonchalant by turns, clearly lost in his own mind. Arthur shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes a bit, setting his bag down and kicking off his borrowed boots. "Do you think the owner might know anything?"

"Hm?" Merlin started, voice a tiny bit shrill. "Oh, erm, perhaps... But we may have to expand our search farther than I wanted..."

Brow furrowing at that Arthur turned and looked at Merlin again. "How so?"

"Well... my master may yet know something... He is a very worldly man." Fidgeting a bit Merlin finally kicked his own boots off, falling into the chair beside the wall with a sigh. "He knew my father a little as well... So there's a small chance he knows where Caer Ddraig once lay."

Arthur didn't really know what to make of that, slowly sitting down on the bed as he watched the warlock shuck out of his jacket. "What was it like?"

"Hm? What was what like?"

"Living in Camelot."

Merlin blinked in response, inclining his head slightly as he looked back at Arthur. "Erm... well... It was busy."

Arthur raises an eyebrow and Merlin smiles awkwardly, carding a hand through his hair as he seemingly scrambles to answer better. "It's hard to explain. It's loud and full of activity. It's like nothing ever stops there sometimes, well, at the citadel anyway... the kingdom isn't that energetic. A lot of it is rather pastoral? Farms and whatnot. It's not as built up as Gawant is."

Merlin picked at his clothes idly, straightening and smoothing as though he was suddenly full of nerves. "I worked for a man by the name of Gaius as his apprentice... he's the Court Physician."

"The master you mentioned?"

The warlock bobbed his head. "The same."

"Is he trustworthy?" Arthur pressed, cursing mentally at how indelicately he'd worded that.

Merlin blinked at him, pursing his lips as though to hold something back before speaking again. "Yes. I believe so. He's... sympathetic. I doubt he'd believe I'd only do this on a whim."

"A bone horn is not much of a prize." Arthur agreed, as though he had much concept of treasure aside from in theory. "How will you contact him?" The dark haired man looked pensive at the question, absently rubbing at his bare throat in the meantime, clearly missing his kerchief. Arthur had nearly forgotten about the favor he'd given away, the name "Gwynn" beginning to rattle around his mind again.

"I might bespell a bird to assist... or maybe..." Merlin frowned, thinking out loud clearly for Arthur's benefit. "I could attempt to scry him."

"What's that?"

"It's... well..." The warlock gestured vaguely. "I can summon a way to contact him through water... so I can see and hear him. I've only done it once or twice to speak to my mum, so I don't know how effective it might be. He might not even be in the right place for me to get him."

“Maybe you should just try it now, then? That way you won’t have to fret.” Because Merlin looked fit to fret at the moment, the taller man picking at the edge of one sleeve while he’d been talking.

Wrinkling his nose and fidgeting more the warlock seemed to battle with himself silently before giving up and going to grab the empty basin that was in the corner. Setting it down on the table the warlock waved his hand over it in a semi-circle, water spontaneously rising up from the bottom of the bowl, Arthur surprised and bemused that he could still be amazed by magic when his household had been steeped in it for years.

Swallowing audibly Merlin tapped the edges of the basin, taking a deep breath in before letting it out through his mouth, clearly trying to calm down. Unthinkingly the hermit reached out and touched his arm lightly, trying to offer some semblance of support. It seemed to surprise the warlock but he recovered quickly, acknowledging what he was trying to do before turning back to the bowl, waving his hand over it yet again. "...Gaius?"

The water rippled and some kind of grinding sounds began to come through, Arthur backing up slightly as an image began to appear. Merlin's looked pleased despite how his brow pinched with worry, the dark haired man gripping the sides of the basin as he leaned over it better. "Gaius. Gaius over here."

There was sounds of things dropping against wood and hurried footsteps, Arthur glimpsing a white haired, elderly man from where he was standing. Merlin smiled brightly, letting out a raspy little laugh as he stared down at his master. "You look like you're doing well!"

"You horrid boy!" The old man exclaimed hoarsely, distress clear in his voice. "Don't you know how worried I've been?"

"I know, I know, but how could I contact you when things have been like this? Is the citadel still out of it's mind? Or has it quieted down?"

The old man sputtered and huffed, Merlin finally having the decency to look a bit shamefaced. "I know, I know, Gaius... I'm sorry... But you know this is the only way..."

Gaius said nothing in response to that, his tone gruff as he finally responded. "His highness has turned his eyes back to the border. He's given up worrying about the horn after he was assured that it could not be used to turn the dead against him."

Merlin snorted at the thought, shaking his head. "Well... that's certainly an interesting thought. But then again, his paranoia knows no bounds at this point..."

" _Merlin_." The tone was a scolding one, Arthur surprised by it. Was Merlin's master _that_ fond of his King?

The warlock rolled his eyes and continued. "Anyway, Gaius, I'm sorry but I must be brief, but I need to know if you know anything about where Caer Ddraig might lay. Do you have any history books or-"

"You want to go where?!"

Merlin cringed and Arthur grimaced, the hermit feeling scolded despite being entirely uninvolved in the interaction. "Gaius you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important!"

"Merlin that is dangerous territory! It's been abandoned to the wilds for nearly forty years, who knows what things lurk in the ruins... You mustn't pursue this course."

Well that clearly wasn't an option, they both well knew, the warlock pursing his lips before speaking again. "Gaius... my Father told me it is the only way to achieve what I've set out to do. I _must_ go."

The silence stretched after that, Merlin staring hard into the basin, as though having a stare off. Perhaps he and the old man were doing just that... Arthur had long backed away farther so that he would not chance being seen. For whatever reason he had no interest in explaining his presence to this new party, feeling awkward just thinking about it. Undoubtedly such a man would be resentful that he took advantage of Merlin in such a way.

The sudden clearing of Gaius' throat startled Arthur, the noise entirely unexpected. He'd honestly had thought it would go on forever the way the quiet had been so permeating...

"Caer Ddraig was said to once lay in the West of Dyrham betwixt the mountains along the coast. But Merlin... are you sure this is the only way?"

"He said it was the only place I could learn, Gaius..."

From that point on Arthur busied himself with whatever he could, Merlin and his master beginning to talk more personally than he thought he was supposed to be privy to. After he did all he could to straighten things up he ducked out of the room entirely, going to see what the inn had in the way of meals or if he was going to have to find food for them on his own. Thankfully the inn was more than equipped to handle their guests’ needs, Arthur returning with two bowls of steaming hot stew, both accompanied by a generously thick piece of brown bread. It made Arthur’s stomach growl viciously on the way up, and he could only imagine how hungry Merlin must be if he was feeling this way.

Pushing through the door he found that thankfully Merlin’s discussion had concluded, the warlock looking up from where he was looking over their map. He looked sort of embarrassed when he looked up at Arthur, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck as he spoke. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to drive you out with all that. I really should’ve waited.”

“Nonsense.” Arthur scoffed, setting their dinner down on the small table, Merlin just barely yanking the map out of the way. “Regardless of my comfort it was important for you to do this, and sooner is better than later.”

Rolling the map back up Merlin muttered something under his breath but didn’t make any further protest, just giving Arthur a vaguely grateful look as he tapped the sides of his bowl. “You check in with Gwaine at all?”

“Didn’t need to.” He quipped, finally sitting down. “I could hear him snoring from out in the hall. He wasn’t kidding about sleeping... I’m sure he’ll be fine to fend for himself whenever he wakes.” After all, Gwaine _had_ decided to take a room all to himself.

***

When it came to the bed there wasn't exactly hesitation, just looks shared that spoke of a silent agreement not to address the situation at all. Merlin and Arthur climbed into the bed together after getting out of their clothes as far as they felt they wanted (Merlin down to his tunic and smalls, Arthur in just his breeches), Merlin flicking a hand and putting out the meager fire left in the hearth. Sighing, the warlock settled back against his pillow and turned over, Arthur mimicking the motion but in the opposite direction. There they lay, back to back, trying to ignore the space between them.

In the darkness it was hard not to let his mind wander, the last few days a real whirlwind when he considered them. He didn’t want to think of them, he’d already had enough anguish. Briefly he debated getting out of bed to grab the quartz crystal from his bag, remembering the properties but finding he couldn’t will himself to move beneath the despair that gripped him. He was alone in a way he’d never experienced.

The arm over his middle was unexpected, Merlin settling close behind him. “Just go to sleep, Arthur.”

He must’ve been making noise, the humiliation of having to be coddled grinding into him and making him press a hand over his face, shoulders trembling as he tried not to react. Suddenly there was a gentle hand around his wrist, pulling his hand down and away, the warlock sighing softly as he settled his forehead against the back of Arthur’s neck. “It’s okay, I’m here. Just... follow my breathing...”

As if to demonstrate the absurd man took a deep breath in, releasing it slowly in an exaggerated manner. Arthur bit his lip, debating telling Merlin to knock it off or get away but finding that he had no will to do so, the hermit sighing and making a general attempt to follow suit.

Eventually he drifted off... but not into any kind of peaceful sleep as he'd hoped, but into bizarre and unsettling dreams, images of a great, golden beast howling and indecipherable screams assaulting him till he jerked upright, stumbling out of bed. In the dark he ended up in the corner with his bag, Arthur digging till his hand wrapped around the quartz crystal, clutching it as he pulled it out and hugged it to his chest, forcibly slowing his breathing as his eyes drifted shut again. Maybe sleep wasn't the best idea...

The next thing he knew it was morning, Merlin peering down at him with a frown on his face, eyebrow raised. "What, did I kick you out of bed in the night?"

Staring blearily up at the warlock Arthur just had to laugh a bit at the question, letting his head fall back against the wall.

"Something like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels like a bridge to me. A bridge with a lot of crystals on it.


End file.
